House of El
by TheDreadPoet
Summary: When Superman finds his bitter loneliness echoed in a woman he saves from death, he decides to risk it all and reveal himself. In return the woman helps Kal-El to see humanity's real enemies, and sets him on a dangerous path to break the chains which bind the world itself. AU. Kal-El X OC, from OC POV. Rated M for language, violence, and sexual themes. Supes is property of DC, etc.
1. Lucky Catch

This chapter's theme song is 'Better Off Dead' by Sleeping With Sirens.

* * *

_"One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it."_

_-Oogway, 'Kung-Fu Panda'_

* * *

If you live in Metropolis, you know about Superman. About five years ago, we started seeing news stories about a man in a blue bodysuit and red cape with a gold 'S' emblazoned on his chest. Nobody was really clear about where he came from, exactly what he was, whether or not he had a real name, what he might have done when he wasn't flying around the city saving people… but that was what he started doing: saving people. He's done everything from foiling terrorist plots to plucking pregnant women out of burning buildings and getting the occasional kitten out of a tree. Nowadays, he's like our own local angel. When the citizens of Metropolis find themselves cornered in a dark alley by a mugger or rapist, they call out for Superman to save them.

A lot of times, he does. Sometimes he doesn't, because no matter how fast he is there's only one of him, but the unanimous opinion is that Superman saves everyone he can.

Superman was the farthest thing from my mind on that sunny, early spring afternoon. I could see the sky, outlined by the uplifted tendrils of my own brunette hair, growing more distant as I fell backwards. The wind was making a terrible keening sound in my ears, but somehow I heard Scott's laughter and my mother's voice calling my name. The fourteen hundred foot fall should have only lasted a few seconds… but it seemed to be an eternity I hung there suspended, one hand clutched to my chest and the other stretched straight up towards faces I swore I saw in the few clouds above.

Then I heard a new sound, one louder than the rushing wind. It was like a tornado or a fighter jet coming at me from between the racing lines of the skyscrapers. Before I had a chance to turn my head, to even think of what might be happening, something hit me hard from the left side. It knocked the wind right out of me, made me shut my eyes reflexively and even see stars. For several hammering heartbeats I was completely disoriented: it seemed the whole world had tilted off its axis sideways.

I came back to myself slowly. I was pressed against something that had the shape of a man's chest, and could hear a sound like a flag rippling in a brisk breeze. I opened my eyes and was disoriented all over again when I saw swaths of red and gold and blue and a patch of that spring sky beyond. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

I said it aloud even as I made the connection in my head, not surprised at how weak and small my voice sounded.

"Superman?"

His reply would have been tough to make out over the noise of the wind if my head hadn't been resting against his chest, right below the collarbone.

"At your service," he said, faintly amused.

I couldn't bring myself to look up at him. Though I've always wondered what it would be like to fly outside a plane, I shut my eyes. His arms felt very secure, one behind my knees and one around my shoulders, but that didn't stop my stomach from rolling as he made a wide, banking turn and headed back towards the Dallas-Daily tower, Metropolis' tallest building. Neither one of us said another word until we were there, sinking slowly down towards the front entrance.

"I'm sorry about the rough catch," he said at last, "I had to move fast to get to you in time. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I opened my eyes and lifted my head a little… but found I still couldn't look up at him.

"Nothing serious," I managed to reply. And then, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Hold on just another second, we're almost there."

I assume his feet touched the ground, because it was like gravity suddenly took hold of me again. He bent, putting my feet down first and standing me up… but when I tried to hold my own weight, my knees buckled. His arm went hard around my waist.

"Easy there," he said, half guiding and half carrying me over towards a bench in front of the building. "Come on, sit down. You okay?"

I hadn't been afraid as I was falling. I hadn't started to be afraid until I was sailing through the air in Superman's arms. Now that I was on the ground, sitting on a hard aluminum bench, terror was ripping through me in waves. I held my right hand out in front of me to see that it was shaking violently. And though I hadn't realized that he'd seated himself beside me, Superman's warm, steady fingers reached out to clasp my trembling ones.

"Hey, it's okay, you're all right now," he said gently. There was something genuine about the concern in his voice, and I found myself finally unable to avoid meeting his eyes any longer.

They were easily the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen: blue as the sky that had almost been my last sight and limned with something faintly silver. His hair was black and so shiny that it looked almost wet, like freshly spilled ink. He had a strong jaw, faintly shaded with stubble that extended down the wide, straight column of his neck. He smiled at me a little, an unexpectedly warm and open expression, and smoothed my wind-whipped hair back out of my face a little with his free hand.

"It's okay," he repeated, "I caught you. It's okay."

I couldn't help myself. I burst into tears. Superman hugged me. And he just held me for a few minutes while I cried on his shoulder. I can only be thankful that it was a drier, more hysterical sort of cry instead of a wet, ugly one. At length, he drew back and reached into a small pouch on his belt, offering me a blue handkerchief. I took it and dabbed my eyes and nose.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling away from him. He let his arm fall back to his side.

"Don't worry about it," he said lightly, and the smile in his voice made me look at him again. "You're not the first person to be a little overwhelmed by falling off a building, and you won't be the last."

I found a small, brief smile to give him in return. "Thanks for that. And for, you know…"

I wanted to say 'for saving my life', but the words got stuck in the huge lump I suddenly found in my throat. I swallowed around it, fighting back tears, and gestured helplessly upwards.

Superman smiled, and stood up. "It was my pleasure…"

"Evelyn," I managed, sensing the question in his open-ended sentence.

"It was my pleasure, Evelyn," he said. Then, hesitantly and with a small note of concern: "You sure you're going to be all right?"

"Yeah, I'm all right. I just need to sit here for a minute is all."

"Okay then," he said with a nod, stepping out towards the curb. He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Take care."

"You too," I said, still struggling with my tears.

At first he lifted slowly into the sky, buoyed upwards like a balloon. Then a swift wind seemed to take him and he rocketed off into the wild blue yonder, that red cape snapping behind. You would think I would have been overjoyed to have still been alive and to have had the pleasure of meeting Superman himself. But I was miserable.

Because I hadn't fallen. I had jumped.

* * *

The sort of courage and conviction it takes to stand on a ledge one hundred eight stories up and push yourself backwards out into space is almost unimaginable. It had taken me months to work out a plan and find the guts to carry it out. I'd been a few heartbeats from impact when the Angel of Metropolis had crashed into my suicide attempt. I sat on that bench, stunned, wondering if his last-second catch was a sign from the Almighty that I wasn't meant to die just yet.

I thought about a lot of things, for how long I don't know exactly, but I realized all at once that it was well and truly dark. I couldn't just sit there forever, staring off into space. My attempt had failed. I still had my ID, my subway pass and the key to my apartment in my right front pocket. So, I did the only thing I really could do: I went home.

There was only one small light on in my apartment, the one over the stove. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock that had once belonged to my grandmother. All the adrenaline that had coursed through my system in the past twelve hours had depleted my supply, and was gone completely. The empty quiet of my home brought back the crushing loneliness that had plagued me all these months.

My parents had died decades ago. Scott had been gone for several years. Jewel was less than six months in the ground. The only thing I had left to want was to be with them again.

Out loud, to no one but myself, I said bitterly, "Thanks, Superman."

* * *

In the end, I decided that God didn't have anything to do with the Superman fluke. I determined to try again… but this time off a smaller building. Twenty stories was more than enough to get the job done, and would leave significantly less time for a certain caped crusader to come racing to my aid. Once again, I found myself unafraid as I bent my legs and pushed myself backwards out into the abyss. Almost immediately, I hit something. A flagpole maybe? As I bounced off, spinning end over end out into space, I heard an annoyed, all-too-familiar male voice say:

"What the fu- Oh!"

My spinning descent was stopped abruptly by a pair of big, warm, strong hands. It was all I could do not to curse out loud. My eyes were squeezed shut -I'd been afraid I was going to hit a building- and I opened them reluctantly.

I had my palms on his chest, fingertips resting on his collarbones. Had I reached out to him as he grabbed me? His arms were firmly around my waist, holding me tight as his cape rippled and billowed around us both. Those silvered blue eyes were boring holes into me, his dark brows drawn together and his lips pursed into a thin line. He looked at me hard for a moment before saying, "Hello again, Evelyn."

"Hello again, Superman," I replied. "I'm surprised you remembered my name."

"I'm surprised that you managed to fall off a skyscraper twice in less than a month."

There it was, that skeptical edge in his voice. His gaze was so intense that I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to meet it.

"I think you've already realized I probably didn't fall."

He nodded once, gravely. "You didn't scream. You didn't flail. Most people do, not all. But jumpers…" he hesitated and looked at me a little uncertainly before finishing his sentence.

"…jumpers usually go head first."

I finally did look down, at the big red and gold 'S' on the blue field of his chest.

"I wanted the last thing I saw to be the sky, not the sidewalk."

One of his arms shifted, and suddenly instead of just supporting me he was holding me too. The vast, surprisingly soft folds of his cape enveloped us, blotting out the sun, blotting out everything. My first impulse was to push him away with the hands that stayed momentarily against his chest… but I just gave way, my hands sliding around his back, holding on tight as I laid my cheek where my palm had been. In the quiet shelter his cloak created, I could hear the slow, steady beat of his heart.

I could also hear the rumble of his voice again when he spoke.

"Can I… will you come talk with me for a little bit? Somewhere that we're not gathering a crowd of onlookers?"

I felt miserable all over again. Was Superman really going to give me the lecture about all the reasons I shouldn't off myself? Still…

"Sure," I muttered. "Why not?"

I owed him that much at least, for catching me twice.

We rose quickly, up and what I thought was northeast. Superman was flying so fast that the wind started to whistle in my ears again. I clung to him, and buried my face against his shoulder to keep the worst of it away from my face. It wasn't long before he slowed and came upright again, then started to sink at a rate that made my stomach levitate for a moment. But he was deft with his landings so far, as if he simply stepped off the air and onto the earth with me pressed against him.

We were on the lakeshore, many miles north of the city. Its spires were a dark blur on the southern horizon. There was a pier beneath us, old but well-kept, lined with benches on one side and open for boats to tie up on the other. It was currently vacant, of course, and the only sounds were the calls of terns and the gentle lapping of small waves beneath us.

He released me slowly onto my feet, hands out to catch me if I collapsed again. I was proud of myself: I managed to stand upright and brushed my windswept hair out of my eyes with both hands. He took a step back, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave me that same hard look as before. He opened his mouth… closed it without saying anything. Pursed his lips and then relaxed them.

"Are you trying to think of a nice way to ask me why I want to die?" I finally offered.

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Don't take this the wrong way but… why do you care?"

He narrowed his eyes. The way the light reflected off the water and caught in them was not lost on me.

"Because I see how hard others fight for their lives every day, and I wonder why a beautiful young woman like you would just throw hers away."

"I feel like I've lived for a thousand years, and I don't find anything about myself beautiful anymore," I snapped. "I can't tell you how many times I've prayed that God would give my life to someone who wants it, that He'd give me cancer and let a child live. But He can't or won't. I don't see how that's my fault."

Superman was taken aback. I don't know, I guess he expected me to be… more ashamed of myself? He tried again.

"What about the people who love you?"

I laughed. I actually laughed in Superman's face.

"They're all dead. I won't be with them again until I'm dead, too."

He gentled a little bit then, despite my poor manners. "I'm sorry for your losses… but surely there's got to be _some_ reason for you to want to live."

I sighed and looked out over the lake.

"Believe me, I've looked for one. I've tried different classes, volunteer work, political activism, every sort of church there is… but nothing moves me anymore. It's like I'm already dead on the inside. If I die on the outside too, at least I'll be free to go be with the people I loved."

"Which people?" he asked.

I walked over to one of the benches and sat down. He followed, unbidden. I looked at my feet as I spoke.

"I'm an only child, and my parents died in a plane crash when I was twelve. My fiancée died after a horrible car wreck almost four years ago. My best friend, who I'd known since I was nine, died of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma in August. I had gotten myself a kitten from the animal shelter just before Halloween… and in January, one of the maintenance men left my window open. She got out onto the fire escape and fell."

I felt my shoulders slump, defeated.

"I'm sorry for all your losses," Superman said from beside me. "I know what it's like to feel completely alone."

I gave one short, dry chuckle. "Do you?"

"My _entire planet, _along with every other member of my species, died when I was only a couple weeks old. I survived because I was in a ship aimed at Earth. So yes, I do know."

I turned my head to glance at him. It was his turn to stare moodily out over the lake, jaw clenched, eyes a thousand miles away. I was stunned. Superman was from another planet. This was more than anyone else in Metropolis knew about him. Also, he was the last of his kind. That had to be one of the loneliest feelings ever.

"Then I'm sorry for all your losses, too," I said.

"Thank you," he replied quietly, and turned to look at me. "So, I understand that it can be difficult. But there are a lot of good reasons to keep going. You never know-"

I cut him off with a hand gesture. He'd talk in circles forever if I let him. I knew the game that sane people played with the suicidal, trying to talk the will to live back into us.

"Look, Superman. You've saved a lot of lives in this city. You save people from things like burning buildings and terrorists. You're not the sort of hero who saves people from themselves. I appreciate the effort, but you're not going to say anything that I haven't heard a hundred times from people who know me better than you do. You don't need to waste any more of your time trying to talk me out of it. There are people that want to live who probably need you right now."

After a moment of silence, he said, "Do you want to go grab something to eat?"

I stared at him, mouth actually agape. And then I shut it. Angrily; "Oh, Superman wants to take me on a date. I have a reason to live now!"

I got up off the bench, vibrating with rage. I hugged myself, cupping my elbows in my hands, and stepped forward until my toes were right at the edge of the wooden pier.

"You can take me home now, _Superman._"

I found myself lifted several steps back from the edge. He didn't turn me around. He kept his hands on my biceps, stood close enough that when he spoke that his voice seemed to be next to my left ear, and I thought I felt his breath stir my hair… but that might have been the same soft breeze that tugged the edges of his cape around our legs.

"The first time I caught you, Evelyn, you were so close to the ground I felt my toes scrape pavement as I reached out for you. You didn't notice because you were so upset, but I was shaking too. And then today… I didn't even see you; I would have missed you completely if you hadn't _actually landed on me._ I don't think that was a coincidence."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I could barely even breathe. It was all just… too much. I must have wobbled on my feet, because his arms slid around mine, and his chest came into contact with my back. His voice continued, and now I was sure it was his breath I felt against my hair and not the wind.

"I had to accept that I can't save everyone… and you're right, I don't usually save people from themselves. I also don't usually have nightmares about people I save… only the ones I lose… but the night after I saved you, I had a nightmare. I felt your skirt slip through my fingertips, and felt your blood hit my cheek as I flew with empty arms right over the spot where you died. If I let you go home now, only to read your obituary in the paper next week… I know it would bother me for a long time."

His voice dropped a notch, and his arms tightened. "I've never met anyone with eyes like yours. At first I thought they were actually red. And for all the times I've comforted someone who dissolved into tears after a close brush with death, the day I did it for you was the first time I didn't want to let go. I just can't let you do …that… to yourself."

I had just failed in my second suicide attempt… cheated of my death both times by the same mysterious hero… who was now holding me close, telling me that if he let me kill myself it would haunt him. He hadn't made any sort of a promise, and Superman was a complete stranger to me. Was I really willing to give up the chance to see my loved ones again and take a huge gamble on a man I might not even actually wind up liking? Was I willing to lie to him, play along until he was satisfied, go home and then finally crack open the bottles of vodka and Xanax I'd been hoarding just in case? Would Superman really have nightmares about me if I did this, or was it all just lip service? Why, oh why, did I want to _believe_ in the warm, quiet strength of his arms around me?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize tears had gathered in my eyes and started to roll down my cheeks. I also didn't realize that my breathing had turned ragged and shallow. I became dimly aware of both as he turned me around. I've never really been the sort of woman who loses control of, and is overcome by, her own emotions, but that was what happened to me when I looked up into his eyes. There was concern and worry etched clearly in them, and tenderness in the hand he laid against the left side of my face. With a thumb, he wiped away one of the tears that was tracing its way down my cheek.

"Don't cry, Evelyn. Say something… anything!… but don't cry anymore."

He didn't know that his touch was the final straw, that the way it echoed the care in his voice and his eyes blew all the breakers in my brain. Black rushed in from the verges of my vision, contracting the world down to a tiny tunnel around his hyperborean gaze before swallowing even their light completely. I couldn't say a word.

As I sank down into the abyss of unconsciousness, I heard him calling my name.


	2. The Taste Of Fate

This chapter's theme song is 'I Believe' by Christina Perri.

* * *

_"I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence."_

_-V, 'V For Vendetta'_

* * *

I woke to the sound of chimes. High, sweet, tinkling ones and low, sonorous, melodic ones, all mixed together seemingly at random. Random and, yet, still music… like music of the spheres.

Did I still have eyes to open? I did, and once they adjusted to the brightness, I was staring up at a field of solid white. I could still feel my body, too. I was completely dressed -even still wearing my shoes- but I was lying in a bed, on top of the covers. I could hear the chimes more clearly, and now I could feel the breeze that moved them caressing my cheek and hair. It smelled like sun and water.

For a long moment, I was completely clueless as to where I was. My mind was grasping but couldn't connect. What had happened? Another sweet zephyr moved through the room, and reflexively I took a deep breath of it. I recognized that smell: it was the lake.

The thought of the lake elicited a flash of memory; sunlight sparkling off the waves and somebody calling for me.

"Evelyn!"

Someone was really calling me. I tried to snap my head towards the sound, but the movement was more sluggish than I intended. The sight of him in the doorway, still in the blue suit and red cape, a glass of ice water in one hand and what appeared to be a wet washcloth in the other, brought me crashing back to myself.

"Hello again, Superman," I managed, my voice coming out cracked and weak.

He laughed, but it was a short sound of relief with no mirth in it. In three big strides he was at the side of the bed, set the glass of water on the nightstand and then sat down next to me, his left hip against my left thigh.

"I'm so glad you're awake! I didn't know if you were having a seizure or a stroke or if you just fainted or what… but I was so worried!"

Worried. Superman had been worried about me. How long had it been since anyone had been concerned for my well-being? I felt a small tug in the center of my chest, at once strange and familiar, and altogether frightening. When he reached out to wipe at my cheeks and forehead with the damp cloth, it twisted up into something almost unbearable.

"I'm… I fainted." And I was still a little out of it, though quickly regaining full lucidity. "You kind of overwhelmed me there."

His relief transformed into something more like embarrassment, and he drew back the hand that was gently smoothing the cool rag across my face. I almost sighed at its loss - it had felt really nice.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just… you got so mad all of a sudden when I asked if you wanted to get a bite… I asked that because I want to keep talking to you, but I didn't want to just stay standing there on the dock in this getup."

He gestured to himself in general: the hero's costume.

"I don't… I shouldn't have said all those things… I mean I wanted to, but not right then… I was hanging on to you because for a second there I thought you might just jump off the dock and try to drown yourself… and it all seems like…"

He paused, sighed, and looked down at his hands.

"I made a mess of it. I'm sorry."

"No," I said gently, sitting up. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. You've been nothing but kind to me. I made an assumption, and I overreacted. I'm sorry."

"I don't think you need to be sorry either, Evelyn. I'm sure you've had a very tough day," he replied, giving me a small and faintly sheepish smile.

He lifted one hand and then dropped it. I knew, instinctively, that he'd wanted to touch my face but remembered halfway there that I'd passed out the last time. I didn't think I could handle another caress, so I was grateful… and yet, I didn't want him to feel as though his touch was entirely unwelcome. I reached out and took his forlorn hand, giving a gentle squeeze. His eyes locked on mine.

"No harm no foul, right?" I asked, feeling the right corner of my mouth lift a little bit, a sort of levity to my tone.

"Right," Superman agreed, giving my fingers a little squeeze in return.

He just looked at me for a long moment, smiling faintly and holding my hand. Again I got the feeling like he wanted to do more… to hug me, or smooth my hair, or something …but was afraid of my reaction. And that made two of us, so I let him go under the pretense of reaching for the glass of water.

"Sorry, I'm parched," I said before I lifted it to my lips and took several long swallows.

"No, no, by all means," he said, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "I think I'm going to go ahead and change… unless you still want me to take you home?"

It was such a simple question… but all the unspoken questions which echoed around it, implied, nearly made me choke on my ice water. I lowered the glass slowly and rested it on my opposite palm. I looked down at it, and my lap, as I spoke… though my voice was so soft and small I almost couldn't hear it.

"If you still want to talk to me… I'm not in any hurry to get back."

"Of course I still want to talk to you, Evelyn," he said, a strange emotion in his voice that I couldn't place. He laid his hand briefly on the top of my head. "Sit tight, I'll be right back."

Then the contact vanished, and with a few soft footsteps, he was gone. In Superman's absence, I raised my head and finally looked around the room. When I noticed that it had a tiny little bathroom attached, I couldn't sit tight any longer. Thankfully, my legs were steady enough to carry me there. After I relieved myself I washed my hands and stood at the sink for a long minute, splashing cool water on my face and the back of my neck. I patted myself dry with a soft, clean-smelling blue towel.

When I opened the door he was standing in the middle of the room, facing me. The blue suit and red cape were gone, replaced by jeans, sneakers, and a green tee shirt that read 'Ask Me About My T-Rex'. His hair was different, that trademark curl lost in carelessly tousled locks. He was also wearing a pair of heavy, square, black glasses. I knew it was Superman, because who else could it be, but I suddenly realized that if I hadn't known… that if I'd found myself standing behind this guy at Subway or something… _I probably wouldn't have recognized him._

"Wow," was all I said aloud, blinking a little in surprise.

He laughed a little, dropped his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Usually that works the other way around."

I blushed. The urge to look down at my toes again was strong, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. I took a hesitant step forward.

"I didn't mean…" I started, stopped, and then tried again. "You're handsome no matter what you wear… but I wouldn't have thought normal clothes and a pair of glasses would make such a big difference!"

"I know," he agreed, "I'm amazed it worked to begin with, let alone that it still works five years in, but it does."

"Yeah, that's amazing," I said, taking another step forward.

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

"Huh?" I blinked at him, confused. He pointed to his shirt. I'd seen it before, and knew the joke, but took the bait anyway.

"You have a T-Rex, too?"

He immediately grabbed the lower hem of his shirt and pulled it up over the back of his head, revealing the dinosaur face printed on the inside. He made his hands into claws and leaned forward.

"Rawr, raaawrrrrrrr!"

I burst out laughing… because although I'd seen the shirt before, I'd never had anyone use it on me. It was corny, and silly, and random… and somehow completely perfect. I laughed for a full minute, until I got a stitch in my side and had to dab hot little tears from the corners of my eyes. He'd put the shirt back down and stood there beaming at me, glasses slightly crooked.

"Thank you," I said when I could finally breathe again. "I needed that."

"Thank you for actually laughing. Most people just groan and roll their eyes."

"Well then most people are sticks in the mud," I replied. And then a thought occurred to me.

"You know… it's going to be really weird to call you Superman with you dressed like this."

All traces of humor were instantly gone from his face, replaced by a grave seriousness.

"I was wondering when you'd ask for my name… usually that's one of the first questions."

I waited. The silence suddenly got thick between us as he didn't continue immediately, even thicker when he looked away. For a moment I was kind of stung by his reluctance, and then I reminded myself that for someone like him, giving his name was a huge risk. If I knew his name, I could expose him. Possibly… probably… destroy him. And we were still basically strangers after all, Superman and I.

"If you don't want to tell me your real name, I understand," I said at last. "We can just pick a name, and I'll call you that for the time being."

"No, it's not that… well, I'm not going to lie," he said, almost wincing. "It's partially that… but… the more important thing is that I have two names. Three if you count Superman. And I'm not really sure which one I want you to call me."

"That's right…" I mused, thinking out loud. "You weren't born here. So, it would make sense that you have a birth name and… an Earth name."

The smile he gave me then was bright, rewarding. "Yes, exactly! A birth name, and an Earth name."

I nodded. "And I'm willing to bet that your Earth name is the one that's… dangerous."

"You're right. But, like I said, it's not just that. I didn't know what my birth name was until I was until I was almost nineteen. I've never introduced myself by it, nobody's ever really called me by it, and when _you_ ask me for a name… for some reason, I feel like that's the one I want to give."

I found myself momentarily at a loss for words. His birth name, the one his otherworldly parents gave him. He said he didn't know why he wanted me to call him that… but I thought I might. The realization gave me the words to speak.

"It would be my honor to be the only one who calls you the name you were given in your native tongue."

Yep, that was it: I could see the flash of acknowledgment in his eyes. It was frightening and beautiful. The words themselves were somehow ceremonial, almost magical, in a way I didn't expect them to be. He straightened… for some reason, took off his glasses and set them on the dresser… and then offered me his right hand.

"I am Kal of the House El, last son of the planet Krypton."

I grasped his hand firmly and shook it, looking him in the eye. Although my words and tone were serious, I couldn't keep the small smile of my lips.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kal of the House El."

"Please, call me Kal."

"Okay, Kal."

_Kal._

I let go of his hand and hugged him impulsively. It wasn't the first time I'd had his arms around me, but this time was distinctly different. He wasn't supporting me at all, had one hand on the back of my neck, tangled in my hair, the other arm wound around my waist. And I don't know if it was the suit that had kept me from noticing before, or the breeze… but he was warmer than other people, as if he had a fever. I could also smell his cologne or deodorant or soap -_his skin _\- and the laundry detergent he used to wash his clothes.

For a long moment I just stood there, breathing in the scent of him, letting the unusual warmth of his body soak into my weary bones. When he was wearing the Superman suit, all the majesty and the mystery made it easy to forget that there was an actual person underneath. In normal clothes, telling me to call him Kal… It brought the legend down to a level where he was only a man, to a place where I could reach him.

He wasn't going to be the first to let go… and though I was reluctant, I let my arms fall and took a big step back. Kal raked a hand through his dark hair and sighed.

"Well," he began, "there's a lot I want to ask you about… to know about you… and it's probably not going to be easy for you to talk about. Do you think you can handle it? Or are you gonna pass out again?"

The question brought me back to my senses. Since I'd woken to the sound of chimes, I hadn't spared a thought for all the sorrows I'd carried with me. I felt the weight of them again as I contemplated sharing those burdens with Kal. Yes, it would be painful. Yes, it would be emotional. I wasn't sure I could get through it. But for him…

"I'll do my best. You're right… it's not going to be easy."

It was the most I could give, and he seemed to sense it. He offered me his hand again, and said, "C'mon. Let's go sit in the living room."

And then, as I trailed behind him out into the hallway, he asked, "Would you be mad at me if I ordered a pizza?"

Before I could open my mouth to reply, my stomach made a loud, hollow, angry sound.

We both chuckled before I replied, "Only if you order one that isn't big enough to share."

* * *

He started by giving me a tour of the lake house… albeit a very brief one, since the place was pretty small and I'd already seen a third of it. The living room and kitchen were one big open space with only a bar to define them into two distinct areas. On the other side of the main area was his bedroom and bathroom, nearly a mirror image of the room I'd woken up in but furnished with one queen-sized bed instead of two twin-sized. I kind of didn't want to go in there but he wanted to show me the enormous, heavy, claw-footed tub in the larger bathroom. I made the proper appreciative comments and couldn't get back to the living room fast enough.

I was surprised when Kal pulled a phone book out of a kitchen drawer and flipped it open to the letter P. He explained that the lake house didn't have cable TV or internet access, and that he'd only had a landline phone installed because the cell phone service could be pretty spotty, especially in bad weather. He asked if I trusted him to order the pizza, and after reassuring me that he found bell peppers every bit as disgusting as I did, I consented to letting him surprise me. As the dark-haired, normal looking man thumbed through the pages of the phone book, I just kind of leaned against the counter… trying not to watch him…

"Here," he said abruptly, handing me a small box out of the still-open drawer. It was a filter for a Brita pitcher. "There should be a pitcher in the top cabinet next to the fridge. Would you mind changing the filter and filling it up for me?"

"Sure," I said, happy to have something to do besides stare at him as he ordered the pizza. I got the pitcher, took out the old filter, rinsed everything, put in the new one, and then filled up the top with water. When I opened the fridge to put the pitcher inside, I realized that it was totally empty. The only thing in the freezer was ice. Finished with my little task, I meandered over towards him.

Kal moved the phone away from his mouth a little and said, "Why don't you go see if you can figure out the stereo? I'm on hold."

The way he said it made me think that other people had been unable to figure it out… and that in turn caused me to wonder who else he might have brought up there… but I arched a brow at him.

"Challenge accepted."

Though there wasn't cable, Kal did have a really nice entertainment center, flanked by cases of DVD's and books. As I stood facing it the L shaped couch was behind me and to my right: one side facing the TV, the other facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a beautiful view of the lake. There were small speakers tucked artfully into the clean, simple décor around the room. I had to open a couple of compartments before I located the stereo, casting a glance over my shoulder as Kal walked to the windows. I hadn't realized the last pair was a sliding glass door until he opened it and stepped out onto the back porch. I turned back to the stereo.

There were no buttons. None. I ran my fingers all along the edges, the back, even the bottom, but could find nothing. Just a big black plastic square, and silver sides. I tried to get my fingernails into the crack between the black and silver, to see if maybe it lifted up. No dice. Finally, it occurred to me. I put my finger against the black square and swiped right.

Bam: stereo! The black square lit up. It was a touch-screen! The menu was fairly simple, and I was overjoyed to discover that the XM Radio feature seemed to be hooked up to active service. I found a light classical station, adjusted the bass, treble and volume 'till it sounded rich but quiet. I stood up, closed the cabinet, and turned around to find Kal standing there staring at me, darkened phone in his hand.

"Most people don't realize it's a touch-screen, do they?" I asked, unable to keep the satisfied smirk off my face.

"Nope," he replied, shaking his head and smiling. "Clever girl."

I made my hand into a three-pronged claw and did my best impression of a triumphant velociraptor.

He crossed the room so fast I don't even know how many steps it took… maybe only one… picked me up and hugged me to him, spun me around, and set me back down on the floor.

"I should have known from the way you laughed at the T-Rex shirt that you would understand the simple pleasure of making random dinosaur noises!"

He had such a great smile. It wasn't just the bright white of his perfectly straight teeth, it was the way that expression lit up his whole handsome face and caught in his ethereal blue eyes. It was so _warm_, just like the rest of him… as if his happiness shone visibly out from the inside. I was getting that feeling again, that tightness in my chest, and with some sort of abject horror I realized what it was. _A feeling_. For months I'd been so hollow, so unable to connect with any one or any thing; not art, not books, not music, nothing. It had been as if I had worn a grey veil which made the world drab and dim.

And Kal pierced it. Because even standing in the middle of this utterly normal looking living room… in his utterly normal clothes… he still shone like a star. After so long spent lost in my own darkness, the light burned my eyes. I had to turn away, hugged myself reflexively as I did so.

"Evelyn?" he said immediately, moving around to stand in front of me. "You okay? I'm sorry, was that too much?"

"No… I'm okay… I just…"

"Here, sit down," he said, gesturing towards the couch. His hands hovered around me as I moved. He was worried I would pass out. _Worried._

I sat down obediently, facing the lake. For a long moment, I listened to the strains of the violin and gazed out the big windows. He sat down beside me. He waited for a few minutes before he cleared his throat, prompting me to speak.

"Kal… you said there's a lot you want to know about me… well, there's a lot I want to know about you, too. But the first question I want to ask, the one that's most important to me… is _why?_"

He blinked a little, confused. "Why what?"

I sighed. "You don't normally bring your suicide rescues back to your lake house and show them what you look like without the suit on, do you?"

"Oh. No, I don't," Kal admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking faintly embarrassed. "I normally take them to the hospital."

"Okay… so then, why are you doing this? Why me? _Why?_"

He nodded, understanding, but fired back: "Why is it so important that you know my reasons?"

It caught me off guard. I'd been expecting him to just explain, but I already knew my own purpose in asking.

"Because if you're just trying to make yourself feel better about abandoning a jumper by mistake… maybe going that extra mile out of some sense of guilt… and you're just going to dump me off at the hospital after we're done eating… I'll be dead in two weeks. Probably not even that long. And you can bet I won't be jumping off a building again."

I said it in a very matter-of-fact way, without any malice, but he still winced.

"It's not that. Not at all," he replied in a quiet, uncertain tone. He searched my eyes for a moment, but looked at his hands when he spoke again.

"From what you've already said… from the way you acted after I caught you the first time… I get the feeling that you're lonely and sad. Heartsick. Am I right?"

I nodded, unable to keep a cautious tone from my voice when I responded, "Affirmative."

"Well, Evelyn…" Kal paused, swallowed. "…I'm heartsick and lonely myself."

That was a scenario which hadn't occurred to me… no more than it had occurred to me Superman might come screaming in out of the wild blue yonder to catch me moments before impact the first time I jumped. Was this man ever going to quit slamming into me full-force and knocking my whole world sideways?

"Really? You?" I stammered, unable to keep a note of incredulity from my voice. "But you're Superman! All of Metropolis loves you!"

He smiled a little, and shook his head. "I'm not Superman all the time. Metropolis loves him, sure, he's their hero… but _me,_ walking around like this? Not so much."

"But… but…" I couldn't wrap my head around it. Superman, _heartsick?_ "You can't tell me that you couldn't wake up covered in bitches every morning if you wanted to."

He laughed. Threw back his head, held his stomach, and laughed. The feeling I got, that I could make him laugh so hard in the midst of a serious conversation like this… it was a huge, shapeless feeling, filling my ribcage with lightness.

"Oh, man…" he said, wiping a small tear from his left eye, still chuckling a little. "You're hilarious. Yes, I could wake up covered in bitches every morning if I wanted to. That is true."

Kal's brow knitted together, and his mirth diminished like a cloud passing over the sun.

"But I don't want to wake up covered in bitches. Because the only thing I could do with them is put the suit back on and fly home. I can't just let people get close. If they're insincere, it's dangerous for me. And if they are sincere… frankly, it's dangerous for them."

His eyes slid to me, with something like a question written in them. But he rushed on before I could form any sort of a response.

"Even before I put the suit on, though, I didn't get close to anyone. I only tried twice, once with a guy I thought was my best friend… and once with a girl who claimed to love me… and both of them were terrified of what I was."

"Terrified?" I interrupted. I couldn't help myself. "Terrified of what?"

"Of me," he said, a great distance in his voice. "I'm not a _human being_, Evelyn. I'm something else."

Pain. I felt actual pain that he'd been rejected in such a way. That the few people in his life he'd trusted enough to reveal himself to had been afraid of what he was.

"As if being an alien makes you any less kind, or gentle," I said bitterly. "I think it's _incredible, _and I'll _never_ be afraid of you because of it."

Kal smiled at me, one of those winning smiles that made my heart skip a beat. He reached out and took my hand.

"That's it, Evelyn. That's _why._ Because you're not afraid of death or aliens, because you're funny and clever… because you're beautiful and fragile, and because I feel like you need me. Not just Superman but _me._"

That damned _feeling_ again… that great, shapeless, nameless thing welling up inside of me… to hear myself described that way, to sort of see myself through his eyes for a moment… to know he felt just as alone as I did, unable to let anyone get close… to know what was really inside…

"That's why fate threw you at me today," he continued. "I don't want to kill myself… and even if I did, I couldn't. There's too much I can do, have to do, in this world before I leave it. Because I am what… and who… I am. But I am so deeply and miserably tired of doing it all alone."

The vast feeling inside me condensed, solidified, into a tiny diamond of certainty. Still, I found myself murmuring dimly, as if in disbelief:

"I don't believe in fate."

Kal smiled, a strange smile filled with both hope and wistfulness. "That's a shame… because I think fate believes in _us."_

He put his hand on my face, either forgetting or disregarding what had happened the last time, and he was right to do so. I put my hand over his, leaned into his touch, and looked into his eyes. Less than six hours ago, I had flung myself to my death. And tomorrow morning, when I woke up, I would think of Kal and have something to look forward to. I didn't want to be saved. I didn't want to _believe. _Not in fate, and not in him.

But I knew I would. Even if I didn't yet, I would. I knew it with a certainty that shook me down to the very core of my being. Somehow he'd already gotten under my skin, and it was only going to get worse from here. So as Kal leaned towards me slowly… instead of pulling away… I lifted my chin, and started to let my eyelids fall shut.

_Knock-knock-knock!_

Saved by a pizza. I opened my eyes and found him very close… closer than he'd ever been to me… up this close, his eyes were something liquid, a deep blue sea in which I would happily drown.

"What was it you were saying about fate?" I asked dryly, a faint smile closing my parted lips.

The look he shot me as he drew back was almost hateful, and then he shook his head and chuckled a little bit.

He went to answer the door, and I just sort of sat there dumbly, listening to him talking with the delivery guy. Kal had almost kissed me. He didn't want to be alone anymore. I got up and went into the kitchen as he closed the door. He put the pizza down on the countertop, along with a two liter of Coke and… a six pack of Sam Adams'.

"I didn't know pizza places delivered beer," I said, reaching for one of the bottles.

Kal laughed. "They don't. I asked if I could speak with the driver, and told him that if he happened to have a six pack of Sam Adams' in the car when he got here, either regular or whatever seasonal brew was out, I'd buy it off him for fifteen bucks."

"Clever," I said flatly, staring at the bottle.

"Evie?" He asked cautiously. "What is it?"

_Evie. _My vision swam, tears blurring the print on the label. I could still see it clearly though; it would be burned into my memory forever. Two simple words, the name of a beer I'd yet to taste, which the pizza delivery man had brought to us by something that I could no longer call chance.

_Escape Route._

I held the bottle out to Kal. I couldn't look at him, couldn't speak. He laughed once, breathlessly, and I heard the soft clink as he set the bottle down on the counter. He stepped very close to me, slid his finger under my chin and tilted my face up so I _had _to look at him.

"Now do you believe, Evie?"

I couldn't fight it any more. There was absolutely no point.

"Yes, Kal. I believe."

He really did kiss me then. I closed my eyes, slid one arm around his back, resting one palm between his shoulder blades, and with the other I reached up to twine my fingers in his raven hair, brushing them against the warm skin at the nape of his neck. One of his arms wrapped around my ribcage, and the other -the hand that had tilted up my chin- cupped my cheek as his lips made contact with mine.

Kal's mouth was so warm… and soft… his kiss so amazingly gentle and sweet, and yet something about the caution in it made me wonder if he was worried about overwhelming me… or if he was as afraid of this as I was. Which was incredible and amazing all over again, either way you went.

For all the emotion boiling just below the surface, that first kiss was too brief. He drew back a little, standing there with his lips inches from mine… close enough that I could still feel his breath on them. I wanted to kiss him again… but I knew that if I did, I wouldn't stop kissing him. He seemed to understand, and might have felt the same, because he let go of me and drew back. Kal turned, grabbed the beer, and twisted off the top before handing it to me.

"Tell me how it tastes."

Without lifting the bottle to my lips, looking right in his eyes, I replied, "Delicious."

He blushed, _Kal actually blushed,_ and I took a taste of the beer. I had been right: it was really good, citrusy and fruity and light. I offered him the open bottle, and he took a swallow too before handing it back to me with a nod.

"Yep. Amazing."

Kal also wasn't talking about the beer.

I caught a whiff of something garlicky and delicious just then, and my stomach repeated its audible declaration of emptiness. Kal laughed a little, reached into a drawer and retrieved two paper plates, then revealed our dinner.


	3. Full Disclosure

This chapter's theme song is 'Inside Out' by Madonna.

* * *

_"We're never so vulnerable as when we trust someone_

_-but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy."_

_-Walter Anderson_

* * *

The pizza was delicious, and I was glad I'd trusted Kal. Chicken, bacon, spinach and black olives with an alfredo-type sauce instead of marinara. It was also huge, eighteen inches across at least, and Kal warned me wincingly that he was probably going to eat most of it. He didn't tell me that he was going to do so in the time it took me to eat my own two slices. He wasn't able to talk during this feat, so I munched my food slowly and savored my Escape Route. I tried not to stare at him… but it was damned fascinating.

To this day, it is the best meal I've ever eaten. And I did it in companionable silence beside Kal, this sweet and amazing man, watching the sun go down over the lake.

Finally, the pie was gone, and Kal leaned back. His stomach wasn't swollen or distended at all. I found myself amazed.

"I can't believe you ate all that," I said, sipping on my beer.

"I could eat an order of wings too, and a whole thing of cheesy bread. My metabolism is through the roof," he replied good-naturedly, seeming completely at ease. He took the last sip of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the table.

I was finished with mine too, and got up. I took both bottles and both plates, removing them to the kitchen. "You want another one?" I asked as I moved.

"That would be lovely," he replied.

Though I threw away his bottle, I rinsed mine and carefully dried it with a paper towel before replacing the cap and setting it on the counter next to the sink. After a moment of hunting I found a glass to fill with ice and Coke for myself, and then retrieved another beer from the fridge for him. I twisted it open and flicked the cap into the garbage can before returning to the living room. Kal was in the corner of the couch, sock feet propped up on the table, and I handed him the open beer as I reclaimed my spot on the part of the L facing the windows.

"Don't throw away the bottle next to the sink," I said, settling back against the cushions.

"Why not?"

"I want to save it."

He smiled, and repeated my earlier question. "Why?"

"Because even though everyone else who might ever see it sitting on my bookshelf will wonder why I'd keep a lowly Sam Adams' beer bottle, you and I will know that I keep it because that was the beer that tasted like fate."

For a moment I thought Kal was going to cry. And then I thought he might kiss me again. But he did neither, only leaned forward, put his feet down, and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his beer at a casual angle with one hand, looking at me levelly.

"So, Evie…" and then he stopped. Maybe it was the look on my face, but I couldn't tell you what that look might have been. Maybe he just remembered his manners and realized he hadn't asked. "Do you mind if I call you Evie? Or do you prefer Evelyn?"

"I like it when you call me Evie," I confessed, surprised at the thick emotion in my voice. "It's been a long time since someone did. Eve's okay too, if you want… just not Lynn."

"Lynn?" Kal said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Why would anyone want to shorten your name to that? Evelyn and Eve both sound so regal… and Evie is so… cute. Lynn's just…"

"I know, right? I'd say about thirty percent of people still want to give me that nickname. Scott did."

"Scott?"

"My… ah, former fiancée."

"Oh," Kal said. And instantly I could tell he almost didn't want to hear about it. Then: "But he called you Lynn? Even though you don't like it?"

"Not his fault," I said. "It was what came naturally to him. He had an Aunt Lynn that lived nearby."

"Were you two… happy together?" Yeah, he really didn't want to ask me that.

"At the time, yes," I said. "His parents and his older brother really did not like me, I don't know why. His little sister seemed to adore me… and when he and I were together, that was plenty of family. I can see where that might have made things rough in the long run though."

I didn't want to make him ask, so I just told the story. He sipped quietly on his beer and let me talk, seemingly grateful.

"I met Scott when I was twenty. I was living alone, working two waitressing jobs. Scott was a regular at one of them… it was right next to the university where he was studying chemical engineering. Once he noticed I worked there, he sat in my section every time he came. Flirted with me. Left a big tip."

I paused, drew a deep ragged breath, and plunged on.

"One day he left his number on a napkin, but I didn't call. He waited almost two weeks before he came back and sat in my section again, asked me why I hadn't been interested. I told him the truth; that every university guy who'd taken me on a date had changed their mind when they found out how much lower I fell on the socioeconomic scale than they did. I didn't go to a proper college, I was getting my Certificate of Paralegal Studies from the cheap technical institute on the run-down side of town."

"Scott told me he didn't care, and gave me his number again anyway. It wasn't long before we were dating exclusively. He treated me very well, and tried his best to remember to call me Eve or Evie and not Lynn… that was the worst thing he ever did, so it was easy to forgive. Jewel said he was very nice, but there was something about him she didn't trust. She was mad when we got engaged. She said he was an okay boyfriend but not husband material."

"But I'll never know," I said in a tone far darker than I'd intended. "The wreck was six months after we got engaged. I held his hand and sobbed while his mother stared daggers at me from across the bed, as if I were ruining her moment, when they pulled the plug on him. None of them ever spoke to me again."

I looked at Kal, who took a swig of his Escape Route and gave me a look as fatal as my voice. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't, so I continued.

"Either way, he was the only man I've ever been with, and the only man who's ever claimed to love me. And when he died, I was shattered. Jewel tried to set me up with a bunch of different guys… but none of them… _did it_ for me, you know? She always used to say I needed to lower my standards… but the only thing I was looking for was something genuine. And I couldn't seem to find it again."

"After a while, I gave up hope that I would ever find another one that was really looking for someone to swap hearts with, instead of just someone to warm their bed. It wasn't long after that Jewel was diagnosed. She fought it for almost two years… but in the end…"

I was fighting tears again. Kal put up a finger and… _vanished._ And then reappeared in a green and blue blur with a box of tissues in his hand, sitting in the same spot on the couch that he'd previously occupied. He opened his arms to me, and though I was a little dumbstruck by the superpowers he'd just displayed, I went into them without hesitating. He dabbed my right eye with a tissue and handed it to me, then pulled me against the side of his chest. I slid my arms around his waist, resting my hands on the far side of his ribcage.

Kal was so warm and solid and real that it was hard to believe he wasn't human.

"I'm guessing Jewel was your best friend? Didn't you say you'd known her since you were nine?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "we met in grade school. She helped me a lot when Mom and Dad died. And through all the years… even though we wound up at different colleges, she stayed around. Jewel was like the sister I never had. When I lost her… there was no one left to help me through that."

I had to let go of him and move a little to dab at my eyes with the tissue. I settled so that as we leaned against the cushions my left arm was around his back, hand resting on his left hip, my head cradled against the crook of his shoulder, his right arm around me. My right hand was free to use the tissue, and his left hand was free to smooth my hair.

"Well, who was it that raised you after your parents died? And how did that happen?" Kal asked gently.

Somehow, it seemed easier to talk about with his arms around me, the beat of his heart keeping steady time beneath my left ear.

"My Dad had a pilot's license, and he had taken Mom out on a short little pleasure flight. I was at Jewel's house. Something went wrong, and rather than parachute out, Dad tried to land the plane. The investigators thought that the landing gear caught on something, and the plane went over forward and exploded. They died on impact."

"It was my Dad's sister, my Aunt Tracy, who took care of me from the time I was twelve to the time I was eighteen. She made sure that I ate, and washed, and did my homework, got all my shots and check-ups… took care of the house… but she never loved me. She was a wild child, and only straightened up long enough to take care of me. When I turned eighteen, she sold the house we'd been living in, gave me half the proceeds, and told me to take care of myself. She didn't call me on my nineteenth birthday, nor did she call to thank me for the Christmas card I sent her that year. I haven't heard from her since."

"I don't know if she's still alive… I wouldn't put it past her to have died of a heroin overdose or something… I'm grateful to her for taking six years out of her life to make sure I finished growing up… but I'd be grateful to anyone for that, whether or not they were a blood relative of mine. Aunt Tracy didn't expect to have to finish rearing her brother's daughter, and though she never said so, I think I was a burden to her. I'm sure she was glad to be rid of me."

There wasn't enough emotion in Aunt Tracy's story to make me start to cry again. It was dry and hollow, just like my relationship with her had been. Now there wasn't much left to tell Kal… except…

"I took the money from the sale of the house, along with my last trust fund payout, and bought a two-bedroom apartment in the city. I've lived there ever since. After I graduated college, I got a job at Dallas, Deborou &amp; Hodges as an office assistant. By now I've worked my way up to a full-fledged paralegal. It pays well, and some of the cases I work on are interesting… but… it's not fulfilling or rewarding or anything, you know?"

He finally spoke again. "Yeah, I can see how that would be the case. You just sit in an office and do paperwork all day?"

"Yep," I said against his chest.

"You haven't made any friends there?" Kal inquired gently.

"One of the other paralegals… a really nice girl named Angela… we've gone out for drinks a few times… but I didn't feel comfortable telling her how bad off I was after Jewel died. I was worried she'd think I was a psycho or something. We're friends but we're not… close."

"Well…" he began, and then cleared his throat. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, because that is all very sad… and it sounds like you've had a difficult life without a lot of love in it… but… I just don't understand why all that would make you want to… to…"

He couldn't even say it.

"It's okay Kal, it doesn't hurt my feelings. A lot of people don't understand how someone could get to that point inside their own head."

I paused, struggling with how to put the feelings into words. He rubbed my back a little and waited.

"After Jewel died," I finally said, "it was like all meaning had gone from the world. She'd been the one person I could always count on, turn to… some of her last words were that she was sorry she had to leave me all alone. Although she was the one who was dying… Jewel was worried about me. She was that sort of person. That's why I loved her so much."

"I did try… to find purpose… color… again. I tried churches; first Catholic… then Jewish… even went to a Muslim temple a few times. But religious people use their faith as a reason to be hateful, and judgmental of others. I still believe in a sort of God… but Albert Einstein once said that it is _arrogant_ of man to believe that we are even capable of understanding the nature of God, much less any purpose God may or may not have for us."

"Wow," Kal interjected. "That's deep, especially coming from one of the smartest men ever."

"Right? So you can see why I internalized it. And that let me believe that if there was a God up there, he probably didn't care about me on an individual level, and wouldn't be offended if I threw away the life I'd been given."

"I tried to take classes… I signed up for a dance class, but when I showed up without a partner, I wound up being the instructor's clumsy example and spent the rest of the night against the wall, so I didn't go back. I took a night time painting class at Metropolis University, but I'm not much good at painting, and no one ever spoke to me. I stopped going."

I was crying again, and dabbed my eyes with the tissue. Kal squeezed me encouragingly.

"I guess what it amounts to was that I just gave up hope. It wasn't that life was miserable, I mean, it's not like I live in a war zone where the sound of gunfire keeps me awake at night and I have trouble getting food to eat. And I'm sure your story is way sadder than mine. But… I was just going through the motions of living. I had no one to share it with, I wasn't making any kind of a difference in anybody else's life… I no longer had a purpose. I knew I couldn't live that way for another fifty years… I'd lost all hope that anything would ever get better… I had so many loved ones waiting for me on the other side… I decided it would be best if I just went. Nobody was going to be hurt by it… at least not much, and certainly not for very long."

"Oh, Evie…" Kal breathed against my hair. "I… I can definitely understand that. And I'm so glad to hear that it was only a lack of hope that took you so far down."

I sat up a little and looked at him, faintly offended. "Glad? Why glad?"

He shook his head, and put my hand on his chest.

"The 'S'?" he asked, and I understood: the big red and gold S on his suit.

"Yeah?"

"It's not actually an 's'. That letter doesn't exist in the Kryptonian alphabet."

When he talked about what he was …about Krypton… every ounce of sadness in me vanished, replaced by an excited curiosity.

"It's actually a symbol… the symbol of my house. It means 'hope'."

I didn't realize that I had lied to Kal earlier, when he'd called me Evie for the first time and I'd told him the Escape Route beer had led me to believe that fate had a plan for us. Because it was that moment, right there, curled up next to him with my hand on his chest, as he told me that the symbol of his house… The House of El… was exactly the hope I'd lost… that was when I knew what it was to _believe._

I couldn't help myself. I laid a hand on his cheek and leaned in to brush a very brief, almost chaste, kiss across his lips. After I did so and pulled away, I smiled down at him.

"I wonder if you're ever going to stop blowing my mind."

He blinked… smiled a little, almost dreamily. "I could ask you the same thing."

It was my turn to be a little embarrassed… or, more accurately, shy at that.

"So… does that answer your questions about me? Is there anything else that you want to know?" I asked.

"There's more," he said, nodding, giving me a strange look. "But that's more like learning about your tastes and your personality. And that's gonna take time. I guess there's only one more thing I want to know right now."

He paused to search my eyes.

"Do you still want to die, Evelyn?"

I searched his in turn. I really couldn't understand how it was possible… other than that it _had to be fate_… we _had_ to be meant to take care of one another… he'd physically stopped both of my suicide attempts, once entirely by chance… and all the things that kept happening… I'd have to be a fool not to see them as signs from the universe at large.

"No, Kal," I said, shaking my head a little, my hand still on his chest. "I won't lie to you and say that I'm miraculously recovered… depression isn't like that… but…"

My voice dropped a notch. "…I don't want to leave a world that has you in it."

He sat up and hugged me tight, rocking me a little. "I'm so happy to hear that."

It was Pachelbel's Canon playing softly in the background as Kal and I held on to each other for a long moment. I just closed my eyes and forgot about everything that wasn't the warmth of him, the smell of his clothes and skin. Finally he released me, sat back, and I immediately missed the contact. He cleared his throat and grabbed his empty beer bottle.

"I'm going to have another. You want one?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm a lightweight, and I want to be sober for all of this."

"I don't want you to think I'm getting trashed," Kal explained as he went through the motions of retrieving the beverage. "It's not even physically possible for me to get drunk off beer. I can drink fifteen to every one a normal guy built like me can. If I want to feel anything, I've gotta go straight to Everclear or 151. And even then… I have to drink a couple liters to get sloshed."

"151? Gross," I replied. "That can't taste good."

"No, and I have to chug it straight. Mixed drinks are too slow."

I smiled a little as he sat back down on the couch. "I bet you don't get drunk much, then."

Kal winced. "You'd think so… but…"

I grabbed his hand, feeling pain on his behalf again. "Aw, Kal. That's…"

And words left me. But he understood, seeing it in my eyes. He squeezed my hand and smiled thinly.

"Okay," I said. "Your turn. Tell me."

He let go of my hand… drank half the beer in a few quick swallows, as if he wished it were a bottle of Everclear… took a deep breath… gave me a wary look.

"Don't worry," I reassured him. "Any secrets you share with me, I'll take to my grave."

The smile he rewarded me with was much more genuine, but still somehow sad. "I know you will. But that doesn't mean you won't find me a disgusting abomination by the end of it."

I scowled at him, angry all over again that any member of my species had felt that way about Kal, and had told him so. And then, I had to wonder…

"I mean… you're not hiding tentacles or scales or extra eyes under your clothes, are you? Cuz that might make sex kinda weird."

He laughed a little, and shook his head. "No, no tentacles or anything. I'm… anatomically… almost identical to a human."

"Almost? What's the difference? Wait, I know one. You're warmer than us."

I think the genuine note of curiosity and awe in my voice helped him relax a little.

"Yes, I'm warmer. I run about a hundred degrees at all times. My blood pressure is a little higher, closer to two hundred over ninety-five. My heart is a few beats per minute faster. If you don't count any of my …powers… those are the only differences."

"And what, exactly, are your powers? Obviously you fly… but… do you really shoot lasers out of your eyes?"

Again, he looked a little shy and unsure. "Yeah, I do. It's not really a laser, it's like concentrated heat. I can see through things, too. People call it X-Ray vision, but I'm not sure it's really radiation. It might just be a different sort of perception that humans don't have. Just like the 'laser beams'" (Kal actually made air quotes at this.) "might be a form of telekinesis, or pyrokinesis. I can move really, really fast, as you've seen. Also, it takes a lot of physical force to damage me; more than a bullet, or a knife… the smallest thing I can even feel is a good sized bomb. It takes a helluva lot to hurt me."

I nodded slowly, basically in awe.

"What about… like, have you ever caught a cold or had food poisoning?"

He shook his head. "No. Far as I can tell, human viruses can't infect me, and bacteria that's harmful to you doesn't make me sick."

"Do you know why …how… you have all these powers? Your body seems so… human."

He smiled a little. "Krypton was a much harsher planet. The gravity was greater, the sun was older and weaker, the atmosphere was more caustic. If I'd grown up there, I wouldn't be able to fly or look through things or anything. I would have been a normal Kryptonian. My powers are a result of a combination of factors: Earth's lesser gravity, milder atmosphere, and of course, the powerful light of your sun. Kryptonians can derive sustenance and strength from cosmic radiation… though I don't really fully understand how that works."

"Please, forgive me if it seems suspicious of me to say…" I said after he'd finished. "…but… if you're the only Kryptonian left… how do you know all these things about your homeworld?"

He gave me a weary glance. "You know, Evie, it'll be easier if I just tell you, like you told me."

I nodded… and opened my arms to him. "Do you want me to hold you while you do?"

He touched my face gently with the back of his hand, and shook his head. "Thank you, but no."

And then he began.

"I don't know how old I really am. I don't know how long I spent in stasis traveling at light speed towards Earth… but that's how I got here. In a tiny little ship. When I crashed into a cornfield in Kansas, I had the mind and the body of a one-year-old boy, and that was twenty-nine years ago, so I'm coming up on my thirtieth Earth birthday. In case you were wondering."

"I was," I replied. "I'm twenty-eight, if that matters."

He only nodded, and continued. "I don't remember the landing or anything. And I was very fortunate: I'd landed on the family farm of a young human couple who'd just found out that they couldn't have children. They told the authorities that they'd found me in a baby carrier by the side of the road at their front gate, and asked if they could adopt me if no one came forward to claim me. Of course, no one showed, so they took me in and raised me as their own. You'd call them my Earth family, I guess."

"Everything was fine until I turned thirteen and hit puberty. That was when all my powers started waking up. It scared the shit out of me… my Earth parents hadn't even told me I was adopted, much less that I had crash landed from outer space."

I took his hand, and squeezed it encouragingly.

"When I levitated in the middle of the living room for the first time, and got pissed and asked them why I could do that… they finally came clean. Showed me my ship, they'd hidden it in one of the barns, and told me the real story. At first, I was angry. I didn't want to be an alien… I wanted to be their son, and a normal human boy."

The anguish in his voice was clawing at my insides. I wanted to gather him into my arms, but refrained as he continued.

"I had to hide what I was from everyone else, and it was hard. Using my powers comes naturally to me… it's who I really am, deep down… a Kryptonian. Hiding them, trying not to use them, makes me seem awkward and clumsy. Everyone in the little town where I grew up kind of sensed that something was off about me, and they treated me like an outsider. Except for my best friend, Mark… and this girl named Lana."

All of a sudden, I understood why he hadn't wanted to hear about Scott. But for the time being, he skipped that part of the story.

"I got out of that town as soon as I graduated high school. I went to Kansas State, studied journalism. College was better. I didn't let anyone close enough to see that I was different, but I did get invited to a lot of parties."

"You're a nice guy, and you're cute, so I'm not surprised." I piped up.

"Thanks for saying so," he said, and continued. "After college, I got a job as a reporter for the Associated Press. I made a lot of money reporting from combat zones and other dangerous circumstances. I didn't think it was dangerous for me, so why not? The Iraqi insurgents who tried to behead me were really surprised when I let out the heat ray on 'em."

I was shocked. They'd tried to _behead him?_ "Jesus, you're really lucky you're… you."

He nodded. "I know… after that, I kind of got a little bit of healthy fear in me. I'm very tough to kill… but I realized that it's probably not impossible. I moved here to Metropolis and got a job working part-time at the Daily Planet, and I do a lot of free lance photography and writing."

"The ship that carried me here had a lot of stuff in it besides me. Sand and pebbles from Krypton, fabric, some of my parents' jewelry and personal items… but most important, there were recordings my birth father …Jor-El… had made for me. Everything I know about my race and my planet, he told me."

"So… was El like…" I was momentarily unable to phrase the question. "On Krypton, was yours a noble house? Were you royalty?"

"Yes, we were. Not royalty, but the equivalent of Dukes or Earls here."

"So, if a Kryptonian princess had wanted to marry you, her family probably wouldn't have considered you an unfit match?"

He smiled a little. "Yes. I could have married into a royal family without a problem."

I nodded. "And how do your Earth parents feel about your… real heritage?"

"Of course they both love me. My Dad was really into it, and wanted to know everything about Krypton that I knew. But Mom doesn't like to hear about it… I think because it reminds her that I'm not really her son."

"So… you didn't find those recordings until you were nineteen?"

"Yeah, after Dad died. It was good timing… I lost my Earth Dad and found my Birth Dad."

I squeezed his hand again. "I'm sorry about your Dad."

"Thanks," he said with a nod.

"So, you don't have any friends from college you still talk to? No co-workers you'd consider buddies?"

"No. I can't let people that close, and I haven't felt a desire to… since…"

His face fell, and he finished his beer quickly, in a way that kind of hurt my heart.

"Mark lived three farms down from us, and was the same age as me. We rode the same bus to school, liked the same baseball and football teams… we got along well. We were friends all the way up until high school. Mark was trying to get me to try out for the football team. I never wanted to play sports, because I felt that competing against other human kids would be… kind of cheating. But Mark was so adamant. Finally, I took him into the weight room and asked him to hit the punching bag as hard as he could. He did, and then I told him I was going to hit it as hard as I could."

"I ripped the chain out of the ceiling and sent the bag into the wall so hard it exploded. And then I told him that was why I couldn't play football. I might hurt someone."

Kal's voice dropped several notches to match the crestfallen look on his face. "Mark turned and ran. He hung up on me when I called his house later. The next day, when I tried to talk to him at school… he punched me in the face and broke his own hand. He started screaming… just screaming… he didn't come back to school that year."

"Oh, Kal! That's awful… I'm so sorry!"

He didn't seem to hear me.

"And Lana… that started off like any normal human relationship. We hadn't gone all the way, but we'd gone pretty far. And we'd said 'I love you' and all that. One day, she and I were out at the quarry alone… the high school kids used to drink and party and swim out there… she fell off the ledge on the side where there were rocks and not water at the bottom. She was going to die… and I hadn't flown much at that point… but I had to try to save her. I did."

I couldn't breathe.

"She was mad," he said in a broken whisper. "She said I was a freak of nature, and that she'd never be able to wash off all the things she'd let me do to her. She said I should have let her die. And she never spoke to me again."

"Oh my God, Kal. That's despicable and… unforgivable."

He looked so defeated… and empty… and sad. I reached out and pulled him to me, cradling his dark head on my bosom, stroking his hair. "I can't believe… how could someone…"

And then my words were lost in the soft kisses I laid on the top of his head, and I turned him so that I could kiss his brow… his temples… his cheeks… his closed eyelids… and he just let me. He didn't put his arms around me, or his hands on me. He followed the guidance of my hands on his face, his shoulders… as I kissed the tip of his nose, lingered for a moment at his mouth, then started to trail kisses along his jaw. Down along the lines of muscle and tendon on the right side of his neck.

"Evie…" he said, softly, "…that feels very nice but…"

I snapped my head up. "But?"

He pulled away, sat upright, and gave me that wary look again. "I don't want to scare you off, but…"

I covered my mouth, trying not to look horrified. "Do you not …work the same?"

"No, I'm…" he was starting to blush. "I told you I'm pretty much the same as a human anatomically. That's not an exception. I'm…" he swallowed thickly. "…compatible."

I waited.

"After what happened with Lana… I…" again, he trailed off into silence. What did he not want to tell me?

"What?" I asked, taking his hand. I couldn't stop touching him.

"After Lana, I never tried again," he finally managed, in a tone that sliced me up inside.

"You mean… you've never…?" I stared at him, not able to disguise my surprise. Which kind of seemed to hurt him.

"No. I haven't."

_Superman's a virgin._ Maybe some women would have been dismayed by it, found it somehow a turn-off. I did find the fact kind of sad… but only in the sense that he'd been so afraid of getting a similar reaction that he'd never even opened himself to it. And it was also sort of… coincidentally perfect. Like everything else about him, and everything that had happened in our time together. Romantic and even erotic that I could… that I _would_, I decided… be his first.

"And you think that might scare me off because…?"

He had the grace to look surprised. "What? Well, I mean… don't most girls…?"

"What, find that uncool or repellent? If they do, I'm not one of them. It would be an honor to be your first… just like calling you Kal. I think it's actually kind of… hot."

He blushed again, hard this time. Deep scarlet on his cheeks… his ears… even the back of his neck.

"Geeze, Evie… that's… thank you… but… are you sure you won't… I don't know… regret it later?"

I sucked in my breath. All of a sudden, in a dizzying rush, I understood better why he'd had to save me from myself. I knew, with a surety that pierced me through like a blade, I could _not_ let him go on saving humanity while at the same time feeling so rejected and unloved by us on a personal level. I was here, well within his inner circle, past all the safeguards he'd spent his life building… just as he was inside mine now… and I could see the path to his heart clearly. I knew the way to the man behind the hero, a man who was as scarred and broken as the rest of us… as I was. I could heal him in the same way he could heal me.

I took his face in my hands, made him look at me.

"Kal, please don't be afraid. I don't want you to ever feel like that again. I want you to be with someone who knows exactly who and what you are… who understands all of you… and who adores you _because _of it, not in_ spite_ of it."

I paused, stroking his silky black hair with my right hand. He was staring at me with amazement, adoration, and still something like fear still written in the sparkling oceans of his eyes.

"I owe you my life three times over, and you're an amazing, incredibly _good_ person. When I say you're out of this world, I mean it in every sense that I could mean it towards a human man, and in the one way I can only mean it towards you. Everything about you fascinates and astounds me. The only way you could _ever_ make me find you anything less would be to commit some sort of unspeakable act… and I don't think I have to worry about that, do I?"

"No," he said, breathless.

"Then… please… don't be scared or worried. I want to be with you… be one with you… tonight, and many nights to come. I won't regret it, I won't change my mind."

I leaned in close, let my lips brush against his as I whispered…

"Have you already forgotten, Kal? Fate believes in us."

I kissed him again, harder than last time, letting all those great shapeless feelings well up inside of me. His hands slid up my back, and his entire body softened towards me. I ran the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips, gratified instantly when they parted for me. Gently, slowly, I ran one hand through his hair and the other down along his neck and chest, I exploring the warmth of his mouth, feeling his tongue slide against mine. One of his big hands gripped my left hip, and I started to slide my leg over him. But he stopped me, drew away a little.

"Evie… oh my God, Evie…" Kal was flushed, breath coming quickly. "I feel like… I want to shave and brush my teeth at least first… better if I could take a shower… I want to be… I didn't expect this…"

He set me back a little, breaking all contact. He leaned forward to tap his phone, which revealed that it was nearly midnight. Then he raked both his hands through his hair, the distinctive curl falling forward. What made my breath catch in my throat wasn't that but something very like to panic written on his handsome features.

"Woah, Kal," I said gently, wanting to lay a comforting hand on his arm but not wanting to make whatever he might have been feeling any worse. "It's okay, I didn't mean to overwhelm you. If that's more than you're ready for… I mean, it's a little late to head home, unless you've got a reason you need to get back to the city… but I can just as easily sleep in the guest room. I understand, I won't push you. There's no need to rush."

I've never seen anybody actually breathe a sigh of relief before. "Are you… you won't feel rejected or anything? Because it's _totally_ not like that. I like kissing you… and I… I want more… but…"

I shook my head and gave him a smile that was a touch shy. "Kal, remember you're talking to the girl who passed out when you touched her face earlier. You don't have to explain it to me. If you want to, I'm …willing… but if not, that's okay too."

And I got another one of those really bright smiles, the kind that hit me in the chest like a closed fist.

"You really are amazing, Evie. I'm so glad I have the chance to know you." And he touched my face again, in the same spot he did the first time, rubbing his thumb across my cheek… but this time to caress me, feel the skin, not to wipe away a tear.

I mirrored the gesture, feeling the smooth, warm hardness of his skin and the faint tickle of his beard stubble beneath my palm.

"I feel the same way, Kal. Do you still think it's fate?"

"Absolutely," he said, his voice ringing with the certainty of it. He kissed me again, the lightest of pecks on my lips, and then stood up.

"However it ends up, I think I'm ready to head towards bed," he said. "Are you?"

I smiled a little, and nodded.


	4. Star-Born

The theme song for this chapter is 'E.T.' by Katy Perry.

* * *

_"To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth_

_-I count that as something of a miracle."_

_-Henry Miller, 'Tropic of Cancer'_

* * *

I had realized almost immediately that I didn't have any pajamas… or a toothbrush, or a hairbrush, or even a clean pair of panties. Kal was prepared; though the lake house wasn't stocked with any food, there was a full set of unopened, unused toiletries in the guest bedroom. And the drawers of the dressers were full of clothes that had been left behind over many seasons of cookouts and family fun. Kal and I parted ways with another of those small, hesitant kisses in the living room.

My mother used to tell me that a shower will make a new woman out of you, I remember that, and it's still true. Any guilt I felt at what I'd tried to do to myself melted away as the hot water rushed over my bare skin. It seemed to have been meant that I should throw myself off the highest building in Metropolis, and then the ninth highest. If I hadn't, I never would have made Superman …_Kal_… think that he had finally found a soul suffering in the same sort of way that he was.

The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine from the soap replaced the reek of fear. The shampoo and conditioner were rosemary mint. I found myself amused by the fact that I was going to smell like a garden when I got done. But the oatmeal vanilla lotion softened it into something really nice. Before I'd jumped, I'd taken a sort of… ceremonial bath… and had groomed myself really well. Even trimmed the split ends off my hair. So I was soft and nearly hairless all over, smooth.

In the back of one of the drawers I'd found a white silk nightgown that I really hoped hadn't belonged to his mom or something. It fit me perfectly. The lace trim that made a nice v between my breasts was a pale, shimmery blue not wholly unlike Kal's eyes. So was the ribbon that drew the empire waist close beneath them, and the little rosettes that formed a trio beneath the bow. There were lace straps, and trim on the back of the same.

I didn't want to wear used underwear, so I put nothing on beneath the gown. Didn't matter that Kal had told me everything was clean.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my damp hair drying naturally into big, wavy curls… I was suddenly worried that I might overwhelm him like this. So I kept scrounging, and came up with a very modest set of women's flannel pajama pants in a royal blue and white plaid, and a matching blue tee shirt.

Satisfied, I walked back out into the living room. I had butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

He was standing with his back to me when I walked in, messing with the stereo, so I saw before he did that we'd chosen matching outfits. His pants were pale silver-blue, just like the trim on my nightgown -_like his eyes, _I thought helplessly- and his shirt was white, with that blue along the hem, sleeves and collar. Both looked to be silk but somehow… not silk. And the button up shirt… As he turned, I saw it was open, to reveal the pale definition of his chest and stomach.

I felt light-headed.

"Wow," he breathed, his eyes falling as he took me in.

"Thanks, back atcha," I said, faintly amused. "If this is too much, I found something else…" -I held up the folded pants and tee- "…but… it looks like we're on the same page…"

I trailed off. I couldn't stop staring at him. He was so beautiful, it actually hurt.

"No, it's perfect."

I smiled, blushing a little.

He'd been messing with the stereo, and I guess had changed it to a pop radio station. Or maybe had just stopped there when I'd walked into the room. I recognized the strains of the song that came over the speakers then, softly.

I laughed. "Do you realize what song this is, Kal?"

He listened for a second. "Sounds kind of familiar… but I don't know it off the top."

I saw a remote on the coffee table, and leaned over to grab it. I hit the volume plus button and the stereo answered my request.

Katy Perry's voice got very clear. The song was 'E.T.', wherein she sings about loving an alien.

I stepped closer to him, setting the clothes and the remote on the couch. At first, his brows knitted together, and then when he realized what she was saying, his whole face changed.

I twined my arms around his neck, brought my body into contact with his, and started swaying against him in time with the beat. Slowly, almost dumbly, though he stared at me with a mixture of disbelief and wonder, one of his hands found the small of my back. Kal smiled at me, and his beautiful eyes blazed with appropriately cosmic light in the dim of the living room. He started to move with me, leaving his other hand at his side.

"This is… I've never paid any attention if I've heard this before… but it's…"

"I know: another one of those amazing coincidences that doesn't really seem like coincidence at all."

The next time the lyrics got around to the part where she asked to be kissed, Kal obeyed. Slow, and full of wonder, deep and utterly lacking any of his previous uncertainty. My hands moved from his neck to his hair, and then down the bare skin of his chest. I felt him shiver a little, and he made a low sound in his throat, and broke away from me. For a moment, my heart sank.

Kal picked up the stereo remote and the pajamas, and handed them to me. I took them, puzzled… and then he scooped me up in his arms, and carried me towards his bedroom. He turned sideways to edge through the door, paused to let me set my burden on the dresser, and then moved over to lay me on the bed. He must have turned it down after he took his shower. The air in his room was thick with the scent of him.

I slid my feet beneath the covers as he walked around the bed. He sat down on his side, on the edge, and turned halfway towards me as he spoke.

"There's not a way to say this that isn't a little awkward… but the last condom I had expired like three years ago."

It took every last inch of my self control not to burst out laughing. I managed to make my smile an understanding …if faintly amused… one. "It's… well… you couldn't catch anything from me even if I wasn't clean, but I am. And…"

I paused. "…I'm on birth control… not because I had anyone in mind… it makes my cycles easier… but if I wasn't… could you even, y'know… get me pregnant?"

He was sliding into the bed beside me as he spoke, and blushing faintly… I had to stop myself from giving him a lowered-lashes, bedroom look.

"That, I honestly don't know. My birth father didn't have a sample of human DNA to compare ours to, and I can't say I trust the scientists of Earth with my genes at this point."

"Probably a wise decision on your part," I agreed. "So I guess if you ever do find out… it'll have to be the old-fashioned way, huh?"

"I guess so. But not tonight, right? Not even if I was human?"

"Confirmed," I said, giving a single nod.

"I like that you use words like 'affirmative' and 'confirmed' in every day conversation," he said, reaching out to draw me close.

"I'm glad. I like that you enjoy random dinosaur noises. And that you fly."

He gave me another one of those sucker-punch smiles, and ran his fingers across my cheek. The bedroom window was open, with the curtains parted. It wasn't like there were any neighbors to see in. The moonlight cast deep, sharp shadows across his handsome visage. His fingers trailed down the side of my face, just in front of my ear… and then down along my throat… across my collarbone. I couldn't help my soft gasp, the way it parted my lips, in response to that touch. The song had changed and now Madonna was crooning over a beat that was by turns gritty and dark, then light and filled with violins.

When he kissed me again, I lost track of the music. It was wet and open-mouthed and fiercely hot. All I could hear was the wild thudding of our hearts in a sudden race to see whose could beat faster and get there quicker. Kal's won, of course, but mine wasn't far behind. Our tongues twisted and danced around one another as his big, warm hands explored my body through the veil of white silk. I slid my palms beneath his shirt and up his back, taking in the heated expanse of his skin over the steel cords of his muscles.

It was all downhill from there.

* * *

After all was said and done, Kal spent a long time touching my face and my hair, looking down at me as though he still couldn't believe that he'd just done that with a human woman who knew exactly what he was and still wanted him.

"Evelyn," he murmured at long last, dreamily, "that was… I don't even have words… thank you…"

"Aw, Kal…" I said, wrinkling my nose a little, "don't _thank_ me. I already told you, I want to be with you… and be one with you. You don't have to be… grateful."

He looked at the ceiling, thinking for a moment, and I added, "And the word I'd use is mind-blowing."

"You think so?" Kal asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I was worried I wouldn't be… good… the first time."

"You shouldn't have been," I told him, stroking his hair affectionately. "You're amazing… incredible… wonderful… perfect. Although, I wonder: you seemed so reluctant before… what changed your mind?"

"Don't take this the wrong way… but when you walked out of the bedroom, you kind of looked a little like… a bride, or maybe a sacrifice… and I sort of realized that you were _mine, _meant for me, and willing. And then that song… I can't believe I never realized what she was singing about. That's Katy Perry, isn't it?"

I nodded. "It is. The name of it is E.T."

"Does it… do you feel any of those ways, about me?"

I smiled deeply, put my hand on his face.

"This is transcendental," I began softly, half-speaking and half-singing "on another level. Boy, you're my lucky star. I wanna walk on your wavelength, and be there when you vibrate… for you, I'll risk it all."

Then, after a pause, "Yes, that song is a very good analogy for what I'm feeling in regards to you right now. My star-born."

"Star-born," he murmured against my hair, stroking it fondly. "It's so amazing that you think of me like that."

"I can't help it if I romanticize you a little bit," I replied almost bashfully. "You're the last one of your kind, and it makes me feel so lucky and special that I'm the one who gets to know you, and be with you. I'm only sorry that I had to jump off a building to get here."

He squeezed me tight then, hard enough that it was a little tough to breathe… and I thought I might have felt a warm, wet droplet or two land on my shoulder. But I didn't check, I just held him for as long as he wanted to be held, stroking his hair, his shoulders, his back, murmuring sweet nothings against his dark head.

Eventually we took our turns in the bathroom. I reclaimed my gown and he put his pajama pants back on… explaining that the fabric was from Krypton and not actually silk. He left the window cracked and turned the fan on, again elaborating that it would be necessary thanks to his high body temperature if we wanted to sleep comfortably. Then he climbed back into the ample bed and offered me his hand… drew me down against him, and pulled the covers over us.

I barely managed to murmur an affectionate, "Good night, Kal."

And heard his equally tender, "Sweet dreams, Evie."

Darkness claimed me again, but this time more gently. It was sparkling with the sound of chimes as I watched Kal approach, the nebulous and vast birth of a star painted in blazing colors across the sky behind him, a tender smile on his face and a crown of bright stars in his pitch hair.


	5. In The Shadow Of Fear

This chapter's theme song is 'Imagine' as sung by A Perfect Circle.

* * *

_"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark;_

_the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."_

_-Plato_

* * *

Sunlight and a warm breeze were filtering through the window as I opened my eyes the next morning. For a brief moment I was disoriented, unable to place the clean white walls of the place where I was. It hit me suddenly, when I realized that I was using a dark-haired man as a pillow. Suicide. Superman. Sex. With pizza and a lake house thrown somewhere in the mix.

I don't know if his stirrings woke me or mine woke him, but as I stretched and rubbed sleep out of my eyes I heard Kal suck in his breath, almost gasp. Immediately I was wide awake, Propping myself up on one elbow to look at him.

The expression on his face was impossible to read: it was a mixture of many emotions, some bad and some good. So I smiled at him sweetly, leaned up to put a very small kiss on his lips, and then purred, "Good morning, Kal."

At that, his sucker-punch smile won out. It looked even better with his jaw heavily stubbled, his eyes still a little sleepy. He rubbed my shoulder gently and kissed my forehead.

"Mornin' Evie," he rumbled, in a voice still gravelly with sleep.

We parted ways to utilize the respective facilities, and I paused to re-dress myself in the guest bedroom after I was finished freshening up. The tee-shirt I'd been wearing the previous day was solid black and I didn't want to wear it again, so I grabbed a bright purple tee I'd seen during last night's scavenger hunt. I put my own underwear and bra back on, plus my jeans and sneakers, threw the purple shirt over my head and went back out into the living room.

Kal was already there, wearing a green and white striped polo, last night's jeans, sneakers… and his glasses. He smiled up at me.

"You're not in the suit," I observed. "You going to fly me home dressed like that?"

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head, "I never fly without the suit anymore. I thought we could ride into town real quick and grab some breakfast, then we'll fly out from here. It's a two hour drive, but the flight only takes about fifteen minutes."

"Sounds good," I said, waiting for him to get up off the couch. He nodded, and looked down at the floor… but he didn't budge.

"Kal?" I asked gently, wandering over to stand in front of him. "What's up? Whatcha waitin' for?"

"I… I thought this could wait 'till after breakfast… but it can't…" he started hesitantly.

My stomach tied itself in a tight knot real quick, and I had to remind myself to stay calm and just listen to him. I sat down on the cushion next to his.

"No worries. What's on your mind?"

"Evie, I feel bad about last night…"

I made a weird, strangled sound when a gasp and a groan warred for dominance in my throat. Kal grabbed both my hands, eyes wide, shaking his head.

"N-n-no, not like that. I meant that there are a lot of things I feel bad for not telling you before we…" he cleared his throat "…got intimate."

The sheer panic backed off a little, the grey haze receding from the edges of my vision. I made myself take big, deep breaths. After a few long moments, I looked at him suspiciously.

"What, exactly, do you regret not telling me?"

"My Earth name, for one," Kal began. "And there are a lot of… well, some of them are dangers and some of them are annoyances… that you might go through in trying to have a relationship with me. There's… I mean, I told you a lot, but most of that was about me and not about… what to expect."

Now I finally breathed my sigh of relief. All that, I could handle. I smiled at him.

"What's my last name, Kal?"

He blinked as he realized that I'd failed to mention it… and then shot me the sucker punch smile.

"Woods," I said, sticking out my right hand. "Evelyn Woods."

"Clark Kent," he replied, giving it a firm shake.

"Thank you for trusting me with that," I said, growing a little more serious. "I'll have to call you Clark whenever we're around people you know, won't I?"

"Yeah, you will," he said, his own smile fading.

"I'm still going to call you Kal as much as I can, you realize that, right?"

"Of course. Just be careful not to slip."

I sighed a little. "Sure. What else?"

"If you ever see me out and about in the suit… you have to be very careful not to act like you know me well. You've been saved by Superman once, and can prove it to anyone in Metropolis by showing them that little blue handkerchief I gave you."

It took me a second to remember. The first time I'd jumped, when I'd cried on the bench, he'd given me that hanky. I hadn't realized it was still crumpled in my right hand until I'd been reaching for my subway pass. It was folded up in one of the jewelry boxes at my apartment.

"How does that… prove anything?"

He smiled a little. "You didn't look at it closely, did you?"

"In all honesty, no."

"Do it when you get home, and I'll tell you the story later. The important thing is that a lot of people in Metropolis know that the only way you can get one of those is to be comforted by Superman. So, if you want to wave or say hello, that's fine. But no hugs or… anything else."

I felt my shoulders kind of slump a little. "Kal… I don't want you to take offense, but it kind of sucks that you have to live this way."

"Well, the reason you can't be seen too much with Superman is only because the paparazzi will start to follow you around. They're not going to hurt you, but they can make life pretty miserable. If I spend too much time talking to someone after I rescue them, sometimes they get followed for weeks."

That kind of made sense. In a culture of celebrity worship, it wasn't just superheroes' love interests that got that sort of attention.

"Inquiring minds want to know, huh?" I asked, a little miserably.

"Yeah, inquiring minds… and evil minds, too," Kal said, his tone as despondent as mine.

"Right… whatsisname…" I had to think for a minute. "Luthor. Right? Lex Luthor."

Kal winced. "Yeah. He's already escaped from prison once and tried to come after me. I don't even want to think about what he'd do if he knew about you."

I knocked on the coffee table to dispel any bad luck we might have made by saying it out loud, and then smiled at Kal.

"Well if that guy tries to come after me, he better have the wisdom to send goons instead of coming for me himself, because I'll blow his brains out. Wouldn't be the first time, either."

Kal smiled a little, and then his expression morphed into shock and something like horror.

"Wait… Evelyn… did you just tell me that you've _blown somebody's brains out _before?!"

I nodded, grim. "When I was nineteen, Metropolis wasn't the safest city. I got a nine-millimeter handgun and a concealed carry permit. One night, when I was walking home alone from class, a guy came out of an alleyway on Ninth Avenue and tried to shove me into his car. I managed to get the gun out of my purse and put it to his chin, and told him that if he didn't let go of me he was going to die. He reached up to grab my hand and I pulled the trigger."

Kal just stared at me, wide-eyed, jaw actually slack.

"What? I was in fear for my life, and defended myself. I'm not sorry. If he didn't want to get shot he shouldn't have been attacking women."

"No, it's… certainly, if killing is ever justified, it is only in defense of one's life… but…" Kal shook his head. "Most people don't have it in them to pull the trigger when the time comes."

Then his eyes locked on mine. "But you know what? It makes me feel a whole lot better that you do."

I finally smiled a little. "Good."

"But… Evie… forget about Luthor… if the Government ever found out…!" Kal shook his dark head.

I think I might have turned pale. "Yeah, if _they_ ever caught you…"

His face was taut, hard. "I would not make it easy for them," he said with conviction, "but if they came at me with everything they had… I don't know. I've never tested my limits like that."

This was a surprisingly difficult conversation to have. I didn't want to think about what the Department of Homeland Security might do to Kal if they ever found a chain strong enough to bind him. What they might steal from him, create from it… while deeming him a 'danger to humanity' and 'eliminating the threat'. I'd come to deeply distrust not just my own government, but most governments the world over… and I couldn't help but wonder if they knew more about Kal than he might realize.

There are cameras _everywhere._ Had Kal been stupid enough to…?

"You don't have a Facebook or anything, do you?"

He looked flatly horrified. "Oh, God no! What about you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I do. By the time I realized how deep the rabbit hole goes, I was already in the system. I had to get a government security clearance for a couple of the cases I've worked on, so I'm on the radar."

Kal looked a little confused. "The rabbit hole?"

I looked at him a little sideways. There was a lot he didn't know about me; he'd said it last night, it would take time to get a good idea about one another's personalities, and I had to wonder about him then. Was he the sort of person who would try to keep his head in the sand, paranoid as he already was about the government finding out who and what he really was?

I didn't think so.

But… there would be time for that. On top of learning all the things about him that a normal human girl would know about a normal human boy, I had to learn all the things that could be said of him and him alone, and I had to learn how to intertwine those added elements into something that resembled a normal relationship. Gently, I reminded myself that he'd started this conversation because he'd been afraid I'd balk at that challenge, and felt guilty that he hadn't tried harder to make me aware of that before he'd slept with me.

I took his hand, smiled, and looked into his eyes.

"Look, Kal, you don't have to feel bad that you didn't have this talk with me before we had sex. A lot of it I pretty much expected and it's not anything that's going to scare me away. The thing I hate about it is that you live in fear."

He opened his mouth to respond, and I shushed him with fingers on his lips.

"I understand why you're cautious, and I don't think that you're wrong for it. I'll do exactly as you say, and I do have the common sense to be discrete. Your best interests are my best interests now, okay?"

He nodded, and let me continue as I dropped my hand.

"But if I dream of a world where you don't have to be afraid, please don't hold it against me."

He reached out and hugged me so fast I didn't really realize it had happened; only found myself clutched hard to his chest, his strong arms around me.

"Of course not, Evie," he murmured against my hair. "Of course not."

* * *

Though Kal didn't have a car at the lake house there was a small motorcycle in the garage. The tank didn't have a maker name on it, and it looked a little dusty, but he reassured me it was fine and had a helmet for me… so off we went. I'd never ridden on the back of a motorcycle before, and sailing along on two wheels, completely exposed, was surprisingly close to flying.

I was glad that Kal had told me his Earth name, because the moment we'd walked into the small restaurant he'd been greeted by it. It was a Mom and Pop sort of place and they recognized him from previous visits. Quickly, I learned that the reason they most likely remembered him was the large amount of food he ordered. From the way he chatted with the elderly male owner, 'Clark' often came in to order breakfast for his 'friends' up at the lake house. I realized, with no small measure of displeasure, that Kal couldn't tell the man that all this food was for him. And that even if he had the man wouldn't have believed it.

Kal didn't seem the type to want my pity. I couldn't help that I felt bad for him, any more that I could help the fact that he had to hide who he was. I fashioned that emotion into a better understanding of why he had felt such a miserable need to not be alone anymore that he'd revealed himself to a girl who'd felt a miserable need not to be _alive _anymore.

I still had my debit card, and after Kal confirmed that there was indeed a coffee maker at the lake house, I left him to wait on the food and went to the little corner store a few doors down from the restaurant and got a little bags of coffee and sugar, plus a small plastic container of powdered vanilla creamer. I got back to the restaurant just as Kal was receiving breakfast in three aluminum trays. They fit neatly into the insulated bag that strapped to the little metal rack behind my seat. It was all still warm when we got back to the house.

Breakfast was another quiet affair: I was learning that meals with Kal probably always would be, unless we were eating in public or around other people. Again the man stuffed his face with a rapidity that held strange fascination for me. I wondered how long it would take me to get used to it. Once the meal was over, I washed the coffee pot and stored the remaining supplies while he gathered all the trash and walked it out to the road.

When he came back in, he was pulling his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen a few times before handing it to me, open to a blank 'add new contact' screen. I keyed in the name Evie and put my home, cell and office numbers in. I saved it, and handed the phone back to him. Then I got out my own phone and pulled up the same screen.

As I was doing so, Kal said, "Wow, you actually have a landline phone?"

I smiled. "I like to have a back-up plan. If I lose or break my phone, I wouldn't be able to call 911. Also, landline phones are the only way out of the Matrix."

"The Matrix," he chuckled, shaking his head as he took my offered phone and tapped in his info. When Kal handed the phone back to me, I saw he'd used only 'C.K.' as the name.

"Can I change this to Kal?" I asked immediately, before realizing… "Oh, I can't. You put C.K. for a reason, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, and probably nodded, though my eyes stayed on the phone. I felt that deep sadness again on Kal's behalf but forced it to the back of my mind.

"I guess girls who date secret agents have the same sort of problems," I said, managing to put brightness in my voice that I didn't quite feel, finally meeting his eyes. I tucked the phone away and smiled.

He touched my face gently with the back of his hand and gave me a wistful sort of smile.

"So," I asked a little timidly, "when am I going to be able to see you again? What's your schedule normally like?"

"Honestly," he replied, "it's all over the place, and pretty flexible. I'm only at the _Planet_ on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I try to get all my freelance stuff done during the day on Tuesdays and Thursdays. As far as Superman's work… well… sometimes I'll go weeks without having to do anything heroic, and some nights don't stop until dawn. I try to fly around the city at least once every few days either way, just to let everyone know I'm still around and all."

He smiled, and reached out to draw me in against his broad chest. "And as far as when we can meet again… later tonight would be wonderful, if you're game."

I breathed a happy little sigh filled with his scent as I slid my arms around his waist and relaxed against him.

"Yeah, tonight's great. If you want to come see my place, I'll make dinner," I offered.

"It's a date," he replied, and though I couldn't see his face I could hear his smile. "Seven?"

"Seven," I confirmed, and after he gave me a squeeze, he stepped back.

"All right… I better go change."

* * *

When Kal came into the living room wearing the Superman suit, it was kind of a shock. He looked taller and broader, with an aura of power hanging heavy in the air around him. He found a small cloth drawstring bag to hold my keepsake Escape Route beer and my rolled-up tee shirt. I'd also ducked into the guest room to grab the white nightgown I wore, and Kal had kissed me and said 'of course' when I'd asked if I could keep it. It had been the first time I'd kissed him in the suit, and it had the powerful ring of fate to it that I hadn't felt since last night. I filled my bag and tied it to my belt loop.

He told me that he was going to have to both launch and fly pretty fast to keep any attention off of us, and to help keep others from knowing where we'd taken off from. He would have to drop me off on my rooftop, and intended to keep me wrapped in the cape as much as possible to shield my identity from any cameras. He also wouldn't stay for more than a couple seconds. He wouldn't be able to kiss me goodbye, or even really seem to know me.

Kal warned me that anytime he spoke to me in the suit in public, he might come across as being a little cold, and that I shouldn't take it personally.

It wasn't exactly pain or hurt I felt at hearing all this. Nor was it specifically sorrow or pity. Not quite disappointment, not truly regret or anger or any one emotion I could put my finger on. I had really and truly meant it when I had said that I would dream of a world where he didn't have to live in fear like this. For now, it was another one of those big, shapeless, floaty things in my chest.

After all my assents at his instructions, and despite my deep emotion, all I said aloud was:

"In that case, I'd better give you your goodbye kiss now."

And I did. A long, slow, wet, open-mouthed one, too: I was going to get my money's worth if I had to suffer the torment of being unable to do so when we actually parted. I kissed him until he was the one who broke away from me, panting and looking almost hurt. Then he walked over to the sliding glass door and crooked a finger at me. We stepped out onto the porch, he closed the door locked behind us, and then picked me up effortlessly.

"Wrap your legs around my waist."

I raised an eyebrow at him, and obeyed. He drew my chest against his, so that my chin was resting on his shoulder. He caught the cloak in one hand and wrapped it around my body.

"Duck your head under."

I obeyed again, and slid my arms underneath his.

"Hold on really, really tight."

I gathered up the cloth of his suit into my balled fists, and locked my ankles into one another.

I could hear the wicked smile in his voice when he said softly, "In three… two… one…"

He moved so fast that the word 'zero' got lost. The whole world tilted sideways, a sickening lurch, as he bounded off the porch. Then we were rocketing up, so fast that I could distinctly feel some G Force. It was a struggle to turn my head to the side so that my chin wasn't pressed so hard against his shoulder. I was also extremely glad that he held the cape securely around me. And although he'd said he'd have to fly fast… I think he'd gone faster than necessary in revenge for my savage kiss.

Though Kal leveled off and slowed enough that the speed wasn't so unbearable, I could tell from the way the cape buffeted the back of my head that we were still moving at an almost frightening rate. He'd said fifteen minutes but it took less than that, closer to ten. I clung to him for dear life, too preoccupied with fear of falling to really take much notice of having my legs wrapped around him again.

He slowed down rather abruptly and asked over the wind, "Which building?"

"Red brick, 12 story, corner of First and Tribute," I said loudly, belatedly realizing he could probably hear me even if I'd whispered.

Superman corrected course and fell down out of the sky as if a string suspending us had been cut. I was glad again that he'd covered my face. If I'd seen the descent I might have lost my breakfast on his shoulder. Then we were down, stepping off the air again, so close to the rooftop door of my apartment building that Kal didn't even have to take a step forward to open it. I unwound my arms and legs quickly, relinquishing my hold on him, and stepped into the top foyer of the staircase. I didn't turn to look back, and with my chin tilted down, I whispered so softly no microphone would be able to hear:

"Thanks again, Kal. I'll see you later."

But I suspected he could hear me, because he was Superman. He said nothing in reply… because he was Superman. Then the door closed and I knew he was gone.

* * *

My apartment was on the ninth floor of the building. It was a corner unit, which meant that lucky little me had windows on two sides instead of just one. When Scott and I had gotten engaged, we'd decided to remodel the place and then sell it, putting the proceeds towards a nice little house in the suburbs. Neither of us liked city life enough to drag our potential future family into it. When Scott had died I'd decided to go ahead with the remodel anyway, but changed the design into something more suited to my own tastes.

After descending the three flights of stairs and opening my white front door, I stood on reclaimed ash hardwood flooring. Off to my right was one of my prized possessions: an ash wood table with four matching chairs that I'd been told had been made by hand in the mid-eighteen hundreds. It sat perfectly centered on a yellow and navy blue braided rug, and across it was a runner in white and yellow. There was a little vase filled with artificial daisies, sunflowers, baby's breath and fern fronds.

Beyond the dining room, visible through a pass-through that ran the full length of the dividing wall, was the kitchen. I'd cannibalized part of the second bedroom to expand it, putting in a nice-sized pantry, a full restaurant-grade gas stove/oven combo, a side-by-side refrigerator, and plenty of cabinet space. The countertops were black granite, the appliances shiny stainless steel, the cabinets whitewashed pine, and the backsplash was a mix of grey, white, and rainbow pearlescent tiles.

Off to my left was the living room, where the wood floors transitioned over to plush, dark grey carpet. The wall to the left of the door -the one against my neighbor's bedroom- was entirely covered in bookshelves. The books were on topics ranging from high fantasy to law texts, and were littered with little keepsakes that I'd collected through the years. As I looked at them, my back to the overstuffed couch, I untied the pouch at my belt and pulled out the Escape Route bottle. It went on the middle shelf, at eye level, next to a carefully dried bouquet of white roses Jewel had given me one day after Scott had died. It belonged there, with cherished things.

I turned to face my ash, glass and stainless steel entertainment center over my sofa. It was no more modest than Kal's, high-quality and with eight speakers hidden in the bookshelf, corners, and under the tables around the room, wires cleverly concealed with trim and area rugs that reflected the blue, white, grey and yellow theme throughout the space. The navy blue couch and two armchairs faced in towards a rectangular glass and steel coffee table, with matching end tables flanking the couch. On the wall opposite the dining room, there were three floor-to-ceiling windows, each only a foot and a half wide.

As before, when I'd returned from my first suicide attempt, the only light on in my apartment was the one built in to the hood over the stove in the kitchen. The blinds were closed over my tall windows, and the whole area was cast in shadow. The only sound was my grandmother's clock, a wall-mounted pendulum affair hung between the first and second windows over a small table where a live orchid, a blue candle holder, and a silver Buddha statue sat.

It all looked dim. It was perfectly clean: no crumb or bit of dirt, not even a condensation ring on any of the glass tables. There was nothing to indicate _life_, and a fine layer of dust seemed to cover anything. Immediately I opened the blinds, and though building code said the windows couldn't open more than two inches, they cranked out to exactly that. It was more than enough to let in a full measure of air and sunshine. The window in the study was the one that led to the fire escape, so it could open all the way. A crisp spring breeze was blowing in off the lake, and I mused that I needed to acquire some wind chimes as I changed into yoga pants and a loose tee shirt.

First I was going to turn on some music and spend a couple hours knocking the sorrow off everything in my apartment. Then I was going to go out and join the nearby Costco, so that I could get a bulk discount on the massive amounts of food I'd need to sate my alien boyfriend's appetite. Then I would commence to cook him a meal worthy of a superhero, and hopefully spend the rest of the night getting to know him better… both in an intellectual and carnal sort of sense.


	6. Singularity

This chapter has so many songs mentioned in it that I'm not giving it a theme. Listen to some of them. ;)

* * *

_"Live as if you were to die tomorrow._

_Learn as if you were to live forever."_

_-Mahatma Gandhi_

* * *

I was almost finished digging out my cleaning supplies before I remembered something: the handkerchief. When I got it out of my jewelry box and examined it closely, I realized that the blue was the exact same color as the Superman suit and the hem around the edge was done in red. On one corner was a perfect replica of Kal's house crest in yellow thread.

Most people are aware of superheroes, in the same way that most people are aware of popular film and television actors. Some people …people like me, I suppose… never really pay them much attention. A lot of people have favorites, and keep up-to-date on their rescues and good deeds via grainy cell phone cameras and the internet. A few folks go a little fanatical; for instance, when Batman first showed up in Gotham, there were a substantial number of impostors who hit the street. Many of them learned the hard way that dressing up as Batman does _not_ make you Batman. The Joker ordered a culling of the Batherd and twelve men (none of whom were actually Batman) lost their lives in one night.

Thereafter, it was considered to be bad juju to dress up as your favorite superhero. Manufacturers wouldn't put superheroes' insignia on their products for fear of lawsuits from either the consumer or the hero. So how had Kal's crest wound up on a handkerchief?

As I stood there, rubbing the cloth slowly between my fingers, the memory of the Batman Slaughter brought my train of thought to a more important station. There hadn't always been superheroes in the world. When I was little, before Mom and Dad died, there were no hero stories on the news. Batman was the first to make headlines about eight years ago, and Wonder Woman had started showing up in the news at about the same time as Superman. Since they seemed to protect three of the largest cities in the country, they were the most well-known. But there were others …a lot of others, in fact… who seemed to be vagabonds, showing up in cities at random to commit some selfless act before vanishing into the night. And how many who never made themselves known?

It wasn't the first time I'd wondered it, but I had the thought again at that moment: why had the heroes come? Why now, and why in America? Previously it had been a moment's bored musing, forgotten nearly immediately, but now it seemed a more pressing question. Especially since I kind of knew the answer for one of them: because he had landed here.

But why had Kal chosen Metropolis? Why did he choose to go out and try to help people instead of laying low? Terrified as he seemed to be at the thought of being found out, it was awfully brazen of him to go flying around without a mask on. Why risk it?

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, I contemplated writing them all down. It struck me as risky for something like that to exist, though, so in the end I decided against it.

I realized, to my dismay, that there was a little bit of snot on the hanky. I washed it in the sink and hung it on the towel bar to dry before I started cleaning.

* * *

It only took a couple hours to get everything in my apartment sparkling and smelling like clean laundry again. Though I would normally make the three block journey to Costco on foot, this time I had to take the car. I already knew I'd need to buy more food than I could carry back home with my own two hands and my little two-wheeled cart. The below-ground parking garage was a nightmare as always. I got enough groceries to make dinner and breakfast, and was worried it wouldn't all fit into my nearly-empty fridge.

It did, but _just barely._

Meal planning had been difficult. My first impulse had been to make fifty tacos, but then I realized that I'd have to assemble them… and changed my mind. I'd decided on something simple: meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans.

I did the prep work first. Four large white onions and a bundle of chives chopped, a whole bulb of garlic minced, and five pounds of potatoes peeled and diced. It was a few minutes after four in the afternoon by the time I was ready to start cooking, and I worried that it wouldn't be done in time to take a shower afterwards, so I showered and cleaned up first. I braided my hair and carefully covered it with a green paisley bandana to try to keep the cooking odors out of it.

All the frying, folding, boiling, stirring, measuring, simmering and baking took a full two hours, dirtying nearly every utensil I had in my kitchen. The effort of cooking a single meal for Kal really drove home the point that being the love interest of a superhero would present unique challenges. Also, I desperately needed to up my game on the kitchen equipment front. I'd had time to let down and brush out my hair, which had dried nicely into big waves, and to change into an ankle-length green skirt and a dove grey fitted tee. I'd also closed all the windows and blinds, since the night was still cool this early in spring.

At seven o'clock on the dot, my buzzer rang. I trotted over to the front door and hit the button below the speaker next to it.

"Vat is ze passvord?" I demanded angrily, instead of saying hello or any such normal thing.

I heard him laugh, and clear his throat. "Yode-ode-ley-he-ode-lay-hee-hoo!"

Kal had actually yodeled it. My shoulders shook with silent laughter, my head hanging forward, as I pushed the second button to release the main lock downstairs.

I unlocked the deadbolt and chain on the front door, too, and went back into the kitchen to finish setting everything out on the table. When Kal knocked, I was setting a casserole dish down.

"Come in," I said, a little quietly. A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear me, but the knob turned and Kal entered… wearing a sucker punch smile. He closed and locked the door behind himself, then opened his arms to me.

I went into them immediately, wrapping my arms around his ribs and waist, burying my face in his chest. Kal's arms went around my shoulders, one hand smoothing my hair. He hugged me tight for a moment, then drew back a little. I lifted my head, tilted my face up towards him, and his lips met mine. It was a soft kiss of greeting, with fire burning beneath.

Then we broke apart and I stepped back. He was wearing jeans, red Converse hi-tops and a Led Zeppelin _Mothership_ tee. I smiled a little and shook my head at it.

"Well, dinner's ready," I said, gesturing to the spread on the table, "but I'll be happy to give you a tour of the place first if you want."

Kal looked at the table, and it was as if he suddenly realized the amount of food that was actually there. There were five meatloaves, three already cut into slices, a gravy boat full of the red ketchup sauce, a large casserole dish of twice-baked loaded mashed potatoes, and a huge bowl of green beans with bacon and onion.

"No, if I want to eat all this before it gets cold, I'd better start now," he said, and turned to give me a wicked smile. "You can show me your bedroom later."

He winked, and then started to take off his messenger bag. I was a little dumbfounded… Kal was flirting with me. Last night had been more of a holding on to each other for dear life sort of event, and there hadn't been much… banter between us.

"Roger that," I said, moving to my own chair as he hung his bag from the back of one that didn't have a place set in front of it.

Kal did have a plate in front of him when he sat down. He looked at it, and then at all the food, and then at me.

"Would you be offended if I ate out of the dishes instead of putting it all on the plate first?"

"No, I wouldn't," I replied immediately. "I didn't even think about it. I just set you a plate out of habit I guess." I picked up my own plate and started towards the kitchen.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked. "I've got wine, water, milk, Coke, and Sam Adams Cherry Wheat."

"Two of the Cherry Wheat and a glass of water, please," he said.

I came back to the table and set his drinks between the dishes, both beers open. I took my seat, and Kal used a fork to point at the scoop of potatoes that had appeared on my plate.

"Where'd you get those?"

"I couldn't fit all the potatoes into the one dish, so I made another rinky-dink one too." I smiled and pointed to the casserole dish with my fork. "That's all you."

I did take a thick slice of the meatloaf and sauce, and a big scoop of green beans.

To my surprise, he didn't go to town on it right away. He put sauce on all the cut-up meatloaf, but only cut off a small square and chewed it slowly. Then he had one bite of potatoes, then one of green beans. He followed that with a sip of beer… and then sighed.

"Okay, you're an amazing cook. Is there bourbon in the red sauce?" Kal asked, smiling at me.

"Yep," I said with a nod, grinning.

He took another few bites at a very normal human rate. Then Kal stopped, and set his fork and knife down. He gave me a look across the table… such a look! …part pain, part sorrow, part joy, part humility.

"You worked pretty hard on this, didn't you, Evie?" Kal asked.

I set my fork down. "Harder than I should have needed to, yes. My kitchen is really only set up to cook for one or two, but a couple of industrial-grade appliances should remedy that situation."

I was deliberately upbeat about it, and smiled at him. I didn't like the look in his eyes or the tone in his voice.

"I thought so. And it's so good…" Kal sighed. "I feel bad just demolishing it. And it'll take literally all night for me to eat all this normally."

"Did you eat before you came over?" I asked gently. "Did you think I'd make a normal-sized dinner?"

"No," Kal said, shaking his head. "I actually haven't eaten since breakfast. But… I feel bad that you worked so hard on such an amazing dinner just to have me destroy it."

I sighed. Opened my mouth to reply, and shut it. I looked down at the table and ran my hand along the lovingly polished surface. It took a moment for the feelings to solidify into words.

"I haven't told you about this table yet," I began, "so I'll do it now. I bought it at a yard sale, and I'd never seen carvings like this one has. They're daises and hops, if you hadn't noticed."

Kal looked critically at the woodwork on the chair next to his. "Huh, you're right. I've never seen that on furniture before."

"So, I had an antiques dealer come by to have a look. He told me this table was probably one of a kind, likely made by hand in the late eighteen hundreds, probably by German immigrants."

"Neat," he replied, giving me a look that asked what the point of this story was.

"It's never matched any of my other furniture, but I keep it for two reasons. The first reason I keep it is because daises are my favorite flower, and I'm sure I'll never find another table with daisies on it."

"The second reason I keep it, the more important one… it's more than a hundred years old and was made by human hands. Imagine how many people have broken bread sitting in these two chairs! This table has probably been used for _thousands_ of meals, for homework, for sewing..."

Kal was smiling, and nodding. He got it.

"And now," I said, laying a hand flat on the tabletop, and looking right into Kal's eyes, "this century-old table can say that it has held a meal for a man not born on this Earth. On top of all those very ordinary human meals it has been a critical part of… it has fed a man from the stars."

His smile got broader, and I continued.

"Tell me something, Kal."

"Anything," he replied.

"Most of the times you've eaten with someone else in your adult life, you've walked away from the table hungry, haven't you?"

His face fell. "Yes. I can't remember the last time I ate with someone else and got full… probably not since I was a kid."

I stood up, pushing my chair back with my legs, and spread my fingertips on the bare wood to either side of my white and yellow checkered placemat.

"So then, Kal of the House El, my Star Born, you shall not walk away hungry from the Table of A Thousand Suppers."

As before when I'd spoken in the lake house, my words had a strange ring I hadn't intended to put there. I'd meant for it to sound comically pompous… yet it changed into something of ceremony and ritual and magic as it left my lips. I don't think Kal had heard it so clearly the last time; he have me a look of surprise and… something else I couldn't identify. Something intense.

"I want you to eat until you're full," I continued, trying to keep my voice nice and normal. "If it takes you all night because you want to savor the food, I'm happy to keep you company. If you want to eat at Kryptonian speed, I'll do my best not to stare… but it's completely fascinating to watch, so I hope you'll forgive me."

I sat back down, pulling in my chair.

Kal looked at the food for a long moment, one hand flat on the wood. With the other he reached up and took off his glasses, set them aside.

Then he gave a choked sob, tears sparkling in his eyes, and buried his face in both hands.

Immediately I was up out of my chair and hurrying around the table. That was most definitely not the reaction I'd been looking for, or even remotely expecting.

"Kal, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…!"

I gathered him to my stomach, and his arms went around my waist. For a long minute I just stroked his raven hair and felt the warmth of his tears soaking into my shirt. Then he drew back, wiping his eyes and nose with a napkin.

"I'm sorry Evie," he said. "That's so unmanly… but… nobody's ever…"

He was fighting tears again.

"It's not unmanly," I reassured him. "I like seeing the side of you that's vulnerable. It means I don't have to feel bad for showing you mine."

I rubbed his shoulders and smiled down at him.

He took a deep breath, and looked up at me. "It's just… my Dad is the only other person who ever talked about what I am as if it was a positive thing. And nobody's ever told me to eat until I was full and presented me with a meal that could do it."

Kal took my hand and squeezed it. "It means a lot to me."

"It means a lot to me, too," I said, squeezing back. "So I don't want you to ever feel like I worked too hard on a meal for you to destroy it. I worked hard with that goal in mind."

Then I looked at all the food. "But it's gone cold now, and I can't let you eat it that way, so let me throw all this in the oven real quick."

I moved to pick up the casserole dish, but Kal put a hand on my wrist.

"Sit down, Evie. I got this."

* * *

Kal was a surgeon with the heat vision, and warmed all the food to a perfect temperature without making the plates too hot to touch. I was still amazed by that feat when he began to eat… at Kryptonian speed. It really was an astonishing thing to watch. Kal's hands and arms became blurs, and his trunk would skip in place as he turned for one thing or another. His mouth and the lower half of his face were a blur like his arms; moving too fast for me to track with my puny mortal sight. His eyes seemed to skip and dance like his torso, and were darting all over so rapidly to keep pace with his hands that I wondered how he wasn't seasick.

All three of the cut-up meatloaves, plus half of another one, all the green beans, most of the potatoes, both beers and nearly all the water was what it took to finally sate him. I had finished my meal already, sipping my beer in amused silence as Kal finished up. What a reward it was for me to see the smile on his face as he laid a hand on his still-flat belly and said he was full!

I had cleaned up as I'd been cooking, so there wasn't a lot left to do. Although I told Kal he was more than welcome to relax on the couch and enjoy his fullness, he insisted on helping me. I wrapped up the leftovers while he rinsed off the last few dishes that went in the dishwasher. He handed them to me and I played dishwasher Tetris for a few moments. When I straightened up… he was already done washing the pots and pans.

I'd beamed at him and said, "I really like how all your powers have a super-handy practical application."

"Thanks," he replied. "I'm always glad to be of service."

"I wonder what …other… practical applications they might have." I mused aloud.

Kal blushed a little, and gave me the most adorably shy smile I think I've ever seen on a man.

"Geeze, Evie. I've never even thought about that…"

I gave a small shrug with my left shoulder.

"You never had a reason to before. But maybe you should start thinking about it." I returned the wink and the sly smile Kal had given me earlier. Before he could form a coherent response, I gestured to the living room. "Make yourself comfortable, feel free to fiddle with the stereo. I need to visit the powder room."

I went to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door without looking back. Immediately I was glad I'd done so; I'd forgotten that the hanky was still hanging over the towel bar. I folded it into a little square in my palm after I'd finished relieving myself, and went back out into the living room.

Kal was sitting on one end of the couch, his sock feet propped up on the glass table. I went into the fridge and got another pair of beers, opened them both. I set one on the end table next to him on a coaster, then moved behind the couch to set mine on the opposite end table, and seated myself in the other corner.

"What, you don't want to sit by me now?" Kal asked, and I didn't think the hurt was entirely feigned.

"Of course I do," I replied lightly. "But I also want to talk with you, and if I come over there and curl up next to you, we're probably not going to talk for very long, are we?"

He smiled a little. "No, probably not."

"So," I said, unfurling the hanky with one quick snap of my wrist and offering it to him, "let's start with this."

His smile got bigger. "The way you said it was in your jewelry box, I wondered if you hadn't actually thrown it away. I'm glad to see that wasn't the case."

"Honestly, I'm lucky I didn't lose it," I replied. "I was halfway home before I realized I still had it balled up in my hand."

Then the smile faded a little. That was the day our paths had crossed for the first time, the day he'd stolen me right out from under Death's nose.

He nodded quietly, and spoke still looking down at the little square of fabric.

"The first year I was in Metropolis as Superman, there was a bad fire in one of the government-owned buildings on the South Side."

I nodded.

"I saved a lot of people," he continued, "and I didn't think I saw any more. But when I came down to let the firefighters do their work, one elderly Hispanic lady was screaming that her granddaughter was still inside. It took me a long time to find her. She was huddled up under some heavy blankets in her bedroom closet, and it was hard to see her through the walls even with my second sight. I got to her just in time, she was starting to pass out from the smoke inhalation. When her grandmother came pushing through the crowd, the girl was crying, and I was using my cape to wipe her face off."

"The little girl's name is Elena, and she came through her ordeal just fine. Her grandmother, Rosa, makes these hankies for me. I pick them up from her apartment on the last Sunday of every month. She says it's her way of thanking both me and God for Elena's life. Though I've never really understood how it's thanking God."

"By helping you to help others, maybe," I pondered aloud.

"Maybe," he agreed.

"So… what about you? Do you believe in God?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I see or experience something so amazing that I think that there must be a God, and sometimes I think it simply isn't possible that a God who claims to love us could exist with the world the way it is."

"I feel you on that one," I agreed. Then: "What about Krypton? Did they have a religion?"

"Not really a religion, no. From what Jor-El says, they prayed to the souls of their ancestors if they needed guidance or strength."

I nodded. "That actually makes sense." 

Kal looked at me sideways. "Really? You think so? It always seemed kind of… I dunno, pointless, to me."

"No, it makes good sense if you think about it. Nobody has definitive proof of God's existence, but millions the world over pray to Him anyway. You know for a fact that your ancestors existed… and if their souls still exist, why couldn't those souls be called upon for help in times of need?"

He took a sip of his beer while he mulled it over, looked at the bottle as he said, "Huh, I guess you're right."

"Furthermore, Kal," I said, leaning forward a little, "you're the last Kryptonian. Which means that if you prayed to the souls of your ancestors… you'd have the potential to get a response from every Kryptonian soul that ever existed."

He shivered a little. "That's… deep. And kind of poetic."

Then he smiled, and looked at me. "Like you."

I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the compliment, but replied modestly; "I have my moments."

"Speaking of you," Kal said, "didn't you mention that you don't believe in God?"

I smiled a little. "No, I said that I believe in a sort of God."

"Okay," Kal nodded, "what religion would you say you are?"

I snorted derisively. "Religion is a tool used to control and divide people. I don't have a religion, I'm not religious. What I am is _spiritual._"

Kal looked confused, so I just launched into an explanation.

"I believe that there are two manifestations, aspects if you will, of God. The first manifestation of God is the one that exists outside of us. This God is not sentient, it does not care for us nor does it have any great design. This aspect of God is visible in the forces that created our universe and keep it alive; the laws of physics. That God doesn't love us, because that God is the creation engine. That God is the riverbed in which all the water of life flows."

"The second manifestation of God is a spark of the divine that every living thing carries inside it. The person you are, your own soul, serves as the glass through which this divine light shines. Have you ever heard it said that God has no hands of His own, so He must use our hands to do his works?"

Kal nodded. "Yeah, sounds familiar."

"Just so, and it's true. But it goes deeper than that. God has no care of his own. The only way God can care is to do it through us. We are the color in the stained glass window, the carefully wrought art that gives meaning to the light behind."

"Well," Kal said, "that's certainly a unique perspective. At first it seems kind of… y'know, New-Age… or whatever…"

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, as if trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

"…But, I guess that would explain how there can be so much good and bad in the world, and still have a God that does exist. Because humans can be so incredibly good, and so incredibly bad."

I nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. When you shine the divine light through a soul that hates, and wants to destroy… God is forced to hate, and desire destruction."

He just kind of looked at me. "You are really …really… deep."

I laughed a little. "I hope that's a compliment, so I'll say thanks."

"It is a compliment, so you're welcome," he said. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that your concept of the divine is so unique. You're really an outside-the-box kind of girl, aren't you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," I said. "If you want to get way out of the box, let's talk about the other topic that's not considered polite conversation."

Kal thought about it for a second. "Oh, religion and politics!"

I gave him a small golf clap, and said with a broad smile, "Give the man a prize."

He did a small bow, then said, "Well, it's going to be a short conversation. I don't give a shit about politics. Or sports, for that matter."

I narrowed my eyes, and I'm sure the look I have him was something close to hateful.

"You. Don't give a shit. About politics."

"Correctamundo," he said cheerfully, taking a sip of his beer.

"May I ask why not?" I had to restrain my outrage until I discerned whether or not he had a good reason for not giving a shit.

"I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to interfere. I'm not human, I don't really belong in this world, so it's not my place to influence the outcome. And since I don't want to get involved, there's no point doing research and choosing a favorite."

_Don't get aggressive about this, Eve. He's your fated one, and a scarred man, and you have to be gentle, _I reminded myself sternly.

"You have a social security number and a driver's license, don't you?" I asked.

He nodded, a little suspicious. "Yes."

"And you pay taxes, don't you?"

Again, the nod.

"Well, Kal, that makes you as much an American Citizen as any other American Citizen. And you have just as much right and obligation to participate in your country's governance as anyone else."

"But Evie, I'm an alien," he said gently. "It doesn't feel right for me to vote."

"You do realize how many _illegal_ aliens there are in our country, don't you?"

Kal burst out laughing, and laughed hard. He put a hand on his knee and leaned forward and everything.

"Different kind of alien," he said, still chuckling.

"Ah, but the point remains valid," I said, raising my beer to him before taking a quick swig. "Regardless of the fact that you have a planet of origin rather than a country of origin, you're a _legal_ immigrant. You were adopted by an American family, you've lived in the United States since you were a year old, and you've paid taxes to the American government your whole adult life."

He was nodding, smiling.

"You're one of us, Kal." And then, for fun, I chanted; "Oneofus! Oneofus!"

He laughed a little and looked at me sideways. "I guess you're right. Just voting and being aware of what's going on isn't really… interfering."

I grinned. "Good. I couldn't agree more."

"So, I guess I should ask what your political views are," Kal said gamely.

"Well… my political views might be a little intense for you, especially since you don't know much about the system. I'm pretty revolutionary."

Kal shook his head at me. "You're revolutionary about everything. That's how you think."

"Thank you," I said, "But I mean that in a literal sense. I think we need a complete restructuring of our country's government, financial, military, and healthcare systems."

He blinked a little. I don't think Kal quite knew how to take that. "Really? Why?"

"In all honesty, it's a long conversation you'd probably find a little boring. I have a better idea," I said, suddenly remembering something.

"Hold please," I said, putting up a finger and rising from the couch.

I dashed back into my bedroom, and knelt in front of my dresser so that I could pull out the lowermost right hand drawer. Inside I found a stack of dollar bills with writing all over them… both Jewel's handwriting and mine. I chose one that was mine, shut the drawer, and went back out into the living room.

"Here," I said, handing it to him as I settled back down. "Have a dollar's worth of truth."

"What's this?" Kal asked.

"It's what I said; a Dollar Bill of Truth. Whenever you have a minute, and get bored, start Googling the terms written on the dollar. Start with 'petrodollar' and go to the right."

"Petrodollar," he said aloud, finding it. "Iraq Oil In Euros, False Flag Attack, Syrian Pipeline, Icelandic Revolution, PRISM Program, Domestic Drones, Militarization Of Police, FDA Revolving Door, GMO's, Monsanto, Wealth Inequality…"

"What _is this_, Evie?" Bless his heart, he seemed so confused.

"This is a way for people to spread information. Just do as the dollar says; research the terms. Read a few different articles about each thing, from different sources. When you've got some information, we can talk politics again, and I'll give you my detailed thoughts on everything."

"You made this, didn't you?" Kal asked.

"Yep. Jewel and I sat here one night and made a hundred of them. We would just put a few in our wallets, and hand them out at random in payment for purchases."

"Why?"

I smiled a little coyly. "Because the truth is out there, and people deserve to know. Including you."

He shook his head a little, shrugged, and shifted so that he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He tucked the bill inside and put it away.

"So," I said, "now that the heavy things are done with… let's take a bit of a brain breather, huh?"

I got a sucker punch smile. "Sure."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Green," he replied, "like, forest green or Kelly green. Yours?"

"Blue, any shade," I fired back immediately.

"What's your favorite food?" he asked.

"Bacon. Or a BLT I guess because it's a bacon sandwich."

Kal laughed. "That's an _excellent_ choice that I've never heard a woman make. I guess mine would be a good steak."

"Steak's not a bad choice either. It's not bacon, but at least it's still in the meat family. What's your favorite song?"

"Ah, I don't think I can really pick one…" Kal replied, stroking his chin and looking up at the ceiling again as he thought about it. "…there are so many that I really love…"

"But there's gotta be one that you love more than all the others," I said, pressing him.

"I guess… if I had to choose one, I'd say _Wherever I May Roam_ by Metallica. With _End of Heartache_ by Killswitch Engage a close second."

I put my hand over my own chest. "I feel ya again on the _End of Heartache_. Excellent pick," I said, nodding a little. "But _Wherever I May Roam_… that's kind of poetic… and kind of sad."

He gave me a small smile. "That's why I like it. What are yours?"

"_Imagine_ for one, the John Lennon version is good but I like the Perfect Circle cover better."

"I didn't know they did a cover," Kal said. "What's the second one?"

"Well… lately, I've been listening to _Dark Paradise_ by Lana Del Rey a lot."

"Never heard that one," he replied. "Can we listen to it?"

"Yeah," I said, getting up to retrieve my phone from its charger on the pass-through. "But, I'll warn you, it's pretty dark."

I dug out an adapter cable and plugged my phone into the auxiliary jack on my stereo, switched over the input and pressed play. He listened, and got kind of a dark look on his face.

"Does this make you think about… Scott?"

"No," I said, smiling a little, very briefly. "More about Jewel. Platonic kind of love. The dark paradise is us sunbathing when we were fifteen."

He nodded, and seemed to relax a little, but when the song was over he said, "I still don't like it."

"I warned you it was dark."

"So you did," he said as I got up from the couch. But the song had already changed over… to one I'd downloaded earlier in the day, while I was cleaning. It was Madonna's _Inside Out._ The one that had been playing when Kal had started to take my clothes off the previous night.

All the sadness of Lana Del Rey's smoky voice evaporated as Kal found his wicked little grin again. He'd recognized it too. Wordlessly, he got up off the couch and came over to stand in front of me. He put one hand on the small of my back and pulled me against him. I wrapped one arm around his neck and followed his lead as he started to move back and forth to the beat of the music.

Then Kal put his other hand on my ribcage, and slid it around to my back as he drew me closer. I reached up to put my other arm around his neck and somehow wound up with my fingers buried in his raven hair.

The kiss he gave me then had nothing of gentleness in it, only open-mouthed fire that instantly ignited me. I made a low sound of need in my throat. Kal picked me up and pushed me against the living room wall, holding me there with the weight of his body while his hands roved all over me and his tongue lashed my mouth. Though my skirt kind of got in the way, I wound my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Kal carried me down the hallway and though I hadn't given him a proper tour yet, he correctly guessed which room was my bedroom.

The previous night's union had been a transient, moonlit, spiritual thing, echoed with deep emotion… a wish on a silvery shooting star. That second night crashed down upon us like a blazing comet; a collision of fire and power that shook the ground and painted glowing smoke across the sky.

And we found out that his superpowers did have some amazing practical applications… although minor abrasions were involved in the learning process


	7. A Hero's Dreams

This chapter's theme song is _'Once In My Dreams' _by Otherwise.

* * *

"_A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight,_

_And his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."_

_\- Oscar Wilde_

* * *

I am the only child of Krypton who has ever dreamed.

Jor-El says that we _can't _dream; that we don't have anything like humans' REM sleep. He never dreamed, nor did my mother, nor my grandparents, nor any other Kryptonian ever recorded. It took me a long time to convince my father that I could, that I had.

It was my dreaming which finally prompted Jor-El to tell me that at the time of our planet's demise, Kryptonians had been _grown_ in artificial wombs rather than being carried by their mothers. My mother, Lar'Ra-El, had spent her entire pregnancy in hiding: all three of us would have been executed if anyone had discovered that they'd conceived a child together. I was the first Kryptonian to be born from a living mother in more than three hundred cycles… and also, obviously, the last.

My father and I both wondered if the circumstance of my birth had anything to do with my ability to dream. Had it made me something more than I otherwise would have been? Were all my powers and abilities really just a result of Earth's stronger star and weaker gravity? Was my ability to dream a mimicry of human sleep-visions that my brain had learned to produce through some sort of psychosis or osmosis? Or… would I have been a hero on Krypton, too, had the planet survived?

Neither Jor-El nor I can answer that question definitively. We'll never truly know.

So I shouldn't be able to dream… yet, I do. It doesn't happen often, and it's almost always a nightmare about someone I didn't save. When you do Superman's job, some of the shit you see can't be unseen. It's no surprise I have nightmares occasionally: I'm lucky I don't have full-blown PTSD.

The night after I'd caught Evie the first time, I had a nightmare about her. At first, I hoped it might be a good dream. That maybe in this dream, I'd do something completely foolish, like kiss her right there on the street in my full Superman getup… but instead, it took a horrifying turn for the worse. I didn't get to her in time.

When I told Evie about the dream later, I didn't tell her exactly how gruesome it had been. I was so close when she'd hit the pavement that I'd heard the sickening crunch of all her bones being broken at once, the meaty splat as her organs were obliterated. I'd worn a streak of gore down my front; bits of bone and muscle and a thick, gloppy coating of blood. I don't know why I did it, but I went back to the scene and stood looking down at her mangled corpse. The nightmare had rattled me; both because of its gruesome nature and because I'd already saved Evelyn. Hadn't I?

It was the first time I'd had a dream that wasn't a recollection of something, either pleasant or unpleasant, which had already happened.

Then Evelyn landed on me one random Friday afternoon, when I was flying around just to be visible and had no particular route or purpose in mind. The moment I realized that she had been _jumping_ and not _falling_, I understood the dream. As I spoke with Evie, I realized that it would take more than Superman to really and truly rescue her… she needed _me._ Not Superman… and not Clark, either… but _me_.

As she stood before me in the white dress, I had finally understood the dream's _significance_. Evelyn and I were both broken people: painfully alone and with pasts that had brutalized us. I could tell myself that I'd _chosen_ my lone-wolf lifestyle, even if the truth was that I had become almost cripplingly afraid of letting anyone get close. Evie had come by her solitude through the painful losses of her loved ones… and she'd given up hope of ever finding love in this world again. I can't really describe the feeling I got as I stood there looking at her. I somehow understood and completely believed that by giving her my heart, I could save us both.

There had been no fear in me that night. I did not dream; after I spent half the night watching Evelyn I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep, and woke feeling somehow renewed. The fear did come back… but it was a ghost of itself, more like worry and concern. I couldn't stop myself from worrying that I'd do or reveal something that would finally make her run for the hills. I was concerned for her safety, and worried that the unusual demands of a relationship with someone like me would be more than her fragile mind could handle.

But that second night, she cooked me a gargantuan dinner and told me I couldn't leave the table until I was full. She only asked me one question about Krypton, in the context of asking about my religion. Evie wanted to know about _me_, about all the things she would have discussed with a normal human man: my religion, my political ideology, my favorite color and food and song. Sitting there chatting with her, full and relaxed, sipping a beer… I felt _normal_, in a way I haven't felt normal since I was a little kid. And Evelyn… I was starting to see the sort of person she was, who she would be again once her grief was ended and her sorrows laid to rest.

As I slept in her bed that night, with her curled beneath my left arm, I dreamed of her again. We were shopping for a house in the suburbs… because Evie was heavily pregnant with our twins.

The dream itself was so poignant that I can't say it was a nightmare. The worry didn't start until I woke up beside her. For two weeks I worried in secret that her birth control had somehow failed. Google taught me a lot more about the human female reproductive cycle than I ever expected I'd need to know, and didn't even have the decency to leave me feeling reassured. There were plenty of stories from women who claimed to have used their chosen method correctly and still conceived.

Time proved Evie's medicine to be effective, and eventually my worry turned to speculation. The first dream had been a clear message that I couldn't save her just by getting to her before she hit the ground… but the message hadn't become clear until she had fallen into me. So what did the second dream signify? Did it mean that it was _possible_ for us to have children together? Or was it just my subconscious making a wish, finally learning to _express_ something through dreams instead of simply replaying a memory?

Both possibilities were incredible and beautiful.

I didn't tell Evelyn about the dream. I thought about it a lot, and in the end decided that telling her would do more harm than good. A pregnancy scare might have been too much for her to handle emotionally on the heels of a suicide attempt. If it didn't stress her overmuch… it might have had the opposite effect, giving her false hope for a thing that wasn't actually possible. It made me feel a little guilty to keep it to myself… and if Evie had ever asked about my dreams I wouldn't have lied to her… but I have enough nightmares that she might have been afraid to ask what I see in my sleep. I told myself that if a dream was the only thing I ever kept from her, I was still on very high moral ground.

I couldn't have known that I was only saving that dream for the perfect moment… a moment which would not come for a long time.


	8. Blueshift

This chapter's theme is _'The Real You'_ by Three Days Grace.

* * *

"_Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens._

_The sleeper must awaken."_

_\- Frank Herbert_

* * *

I wasn't sure what would happen when Kal finally left my apartment Sunday afternoon. I didn't know if I'd feel the weight of loneliness and desperation pressing down on me until I was no longer able to breathe. I couldn't say whether or not the black hole in my chest was going to open up again, trying to pull me to the event horizon of my soul. In the seemingly endless moment after he walked out I stood staring at the closed door, waiting.

But the darkness didn't come then… and it never returned in full force. The soul-crushing sorrow I'd felt from Jewel's loss had changed into a healthier sort of grief, a sadness confined to twinges and pangs which happened at random intervals. I had known Jewel for most of my life, and it seemed only natural that seven months wasn't enough time for such a deep wound to heal. I realized, in the days after my second suicide attempt, that the trauma of her death had been enough to re-open the old scars left by Scott and my parents… and while they'd bled a little, they'd closed again quickly.

Kal couldn't take away all of my pain, and it wouldn't have been right if I'd stopped missing Jewel completely just because he'd flown into my life. But Kal made the grief bearable: Jewel's passing no longer meant that I was left behind, alone. My fated one was with me now. What a tenuous rope it seemed, to be the only thing binding me to the living world… but Kal was my savior.

I didn't have to be afraid of what might happen to Kal. He sure as hell wasn't going to die in a car wreck, and not even in a plane crash. Kryptonians didn't get cancer. Death was going to have a very difficult time taking Superman away from me. But I did find cause to be afraid: of course I worried about losing him from an emotional standpoint. What if I had some personal habit that he found intolerable? What if I wasn't the person he thought I was? What if _he_ wasn't the person _I _thought he would be?

How really and truly _good_ Kal was certainly came as no surprise. Kal deeply believed that his great power existed to protect and preserve human life. He told me that he'd become Superman so he could help people without having to fear repercussions in his day-to-day existence. He'd chosen Metropolis for his service because it was close to the family's lake house and had a major crime problem. In the five years he'd been acting as Superman, he had saved 731 lives (my own included) and aided in the apprehension of 1,038 criminals. He had also rescued 51 cats from trees and power poles. The crime rate had dropped 42% citywide, closer to 60% in some of the worst neighborhoods.

As if that wasn't enough, when Kal wasn't dressed as Superman he was forever committing random acts of kindness: feeding parking meters which were about to expire, paying for the order behind his in the drive-thru, leaving ridiculous tips for wait staff, making regular donations to local charities, and so on.

Also unsurprising: Kal was an optimist with an upbeat sort of attitude. I was a little worried he would be one of those high-energy types that are always on the move… but he distinctly wasn't. We spent many blissful Sundays doing little more than moving from the couch to the bed and back as we talked, loved, napped, ate, played Mortal Kombat and watched movies.

What did surprise me a little was that Kal turned out to be a gamer to his core. He played all kinds of games on nearly every system available; from Pokemon on the Nintendo DS to Skyrim on his PC to Call of Duty on PS4. He was from the Internet, able to meme with the best of them, claiming both Redditor and Imgurian. For obvious reasons, Kal was into everything from popular culture that dealt with aliens: Star Wars, Star Trek, Firefly, Dune, the Predator and Alien series, Doctor Who, Men In Black, The X Files, and a whole slew of other comics, movies, books and television shows I'd never heard of. He even had one of those "I Want To Believe" posters like Mulder's framed and hanging on his bedroom wall.

Kal's sense of humor was goofy, slapstick, full of puns and a little corny at times. Though mine was significantly drier, darker, and largely dependent on well-timed one-liners, we managed to bring one another to tears of laughter on a fairly regular basis. And while he liked to joke, Kal wasn't one of those guys who can't seem to be serious. He was easy to talk to, laid-back, open-minded, honest… he had most -if not all- of the positive qualities a woman looks for in a man.

Most importantly, we got along like a house on fire. It was as if I had known him before, and we were only reconnecting after a long time apart.

My dark-haired paramour was wickedly intelligent, too… but it was the sort of artistic, literary intelligence not often found in men. Under the name Clark Kent, he was a talented writer and photographer. One picture of an Iraqi child in war-torn Baghdad standing in the doorway of his ruined house, the bodies of his entire family laid out in a line and covered in sheets before him, looking stoically into Clark's camera, moved me to tears.

Though Kal's impressive body of work existed under that name… and though I grew more fond of Kal with each passing day… I came to hate Clark. Because for all Kal's kindhearted warmth, for all the light he brought into my life, there was darkness in him. And Kal's darkness had a name. _Kent._

* * *

One Saturday night after dinner, as we were trying to decide which movie to watch, I found a random copy of _The Wizard of Oz_ buried in Kal's extensive DVD collection. I must have had a strange look on my face as I brushed the dust off the cover gently, because Kal had asked me what was wrong.

"This was my Mom's favorite movie," I told him. "I haven't seen it in a long time."

Kal got a strange look on his face, and said, "I hope you don't want to watch it now."

"Not particularly… but why do you hope not?"

He raked a hand through his hair. By then I knew it to be a gesture that belied stress. "I prefer not to watch stuff with tornadoes in it."

"What about a Sharknado?" I asked with a small chuckle. The way he didn't smile, only looked at me dolefully, made me realize I'd stumbled upon a sensitive topic.

"Why don't you watch movies with tornadoes in them?" I asked more gently.

"That…" Kal paused, and swallowed hard. "That was how my Dad died."

"Oh, wow," I said. "No wonder."

I set aside the stack of DVD's I had been pawing through, and moved to sit beside Kal on his sofa. I took his hand in mine.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He looked at me for a long moment, searching my eyes. I suddenly understood that the topic went beyond sensitive. And then Kal nodded, and began to speak.

"Mom and Dad were pretty devout Baptists. They went to church every Sunday morning, and since I was home from college on summer vacation, I had to go with them. The first Sunday in June there was supposed to be bad weather, but my Dad insisted that we go to church anyway. It started to rain while we were walking into the building, and it got bad pretty quick. Halfway through the sermon… the tornado sirens went off."

"The church secretary burst into the sanctuary and yelled, 'God forgive me, but we gotta get in the shelter right now!' All hell broke loose. Me, Dad, and a lot of other guys from the congregation did our best to help the kids and old ladies make it to the shelter safely. You had to go outside and across the back lawn to get there, and it was storming really hard."

"The tornado touched down a couple miles up the road, and was headed straight for us. By the time everyone was out of the church, we could hear the damn thing coming… see it over the tops of the trees. But me and Dad heard a child screaming, too. Somehow a kid had been left behind in the church. I wanted to go in to look, figured I'd be better suited for the job, but Dad insisted on going and told me to make sure the shelter got closed up right if he didn't make it. So I went to the shelter and waited."

"My Dad came out of the church with a little girl in his arms at the same time the tornado broke through the tree line. He was running for the shelter… but he stepped in a hole and tripped. I think if he would have fallen forward, he would have been okay… but he might have hurt the little girl, so he tried to fall on his side… and as he went down, I heard the sound of his bones breaking. I don't know if it was his leg or his ankle or what, but he couldn't get back up."

I squeezed Kal's hand and waited. He didn't seem to notice that I was even there.

"I wouldn't have made it if I'd moved at human speed… but _me,_ I had time. I could have gotten him to the shelter…. the little girl, too. He knew exactly what I wanted to do... and he put up his hand… shook his head, just once… then all the windows in the church shattered and the glass went airborne. Dad closed his eyes… and I closed the door."

"Even through the roar of the wind," Kal said, his voice choked, "I could hear exactly when that little girl stopped screaming. When we came out of the storm shelter, the church was _gone._ They found Dad's body two days later in a tree a mile and a half away. They never even found the little girl."

He hung his head. "I could have saved them both."

I'd never heard his voice sound so hollow, and I felt like someone had stabbed me in the guts with a cold knife. Jonathan Kent had _died_ instead of letting Kal reveal himself.

Before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth, I breathed, "That's fucked up."

Kal narrowed his eyes at me. "Excuse me?"

"Wait," I said. "First, you need a hug."

I reached out to pull him against me, and Kal relaxed into my embrace. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held on to me for a long moment while I rubbed his back comfortingly. Against his ear, I murmured; "I'm so sorry you lost your Dad that way, Kal."

He nodded wordlessly, and stayed in my arms for a few moments longer. I let him be the first to pull away.

"So… what did you mean when you said 'that's fucked up'?" Kal asked as he settled back.

"I meant that I think what your Dad did in those last moments was the most fucked up thing he could have done," I replied matter-of-factly. "In fact, if that isn't the most fucked up thing I've _ever heard_, it's easily in the top three."

Kal glared at me. "You shouldn't speak ill of the dead… especially when that dead person is the man who raised me."

"I didn't say he did a bad job of it," I pointed out. "Nor am I saying he was a bad person. But Kal… you have to admit… forcing you to leave him in a field behind a church to die, and taking an innocent little girl with him, when you could have _easily_ saved them both… that's fucked up, isn't it? And didn't it scar you for life?"

It was pretty clear that Kal wasn't happy with the way I was responding to the tragic tale of his Dad's passing. He nodded, mutely, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"And he did that… what, so that the people in the shelter wouldn't see you save him?"

Again, the nod.

"What do you think those people would have done if they had seen it?"

That question took a lot of the anger out of Kal, almost immediately. I suspected that he'd asked himself the same thing many times before, and come up with the same answer he gave me.

"I don't know," he replied finally, a little grudgingly.

"Do you honestly think that any of those people would have done anything so terrible that your Dad needed to _give his life_ to protect you from it?"

Kal looked at me… and then looked down at his hands.

"No. I don't," he said so quietly, I almost didn't hear. He had a really defeated expression on his face.

"I'm not trying to make you feel worse about this than you already do, Kal," I said, realizing that I probably had. "But I want you to know that your Dad's fear… the fear of whatever would happen if those church folks saw you use your powers save him… that was what really killed him. Not the tornado."

Kal sighed. "I… I kind of already knew that. I guess I just didn't want to admit it. And I still kind of don't. If he'd let me save him… or if he'd even let me go in after the kid! Things could have gone so differently…"

"I understand that, really I do," I said, taking his hand again. "I've wished many times that my Dad would have decided to parachute out instead of trying to be a badass and land the damn plane. Whatever their reasons for doing it, it's difficult to think that if your dead parent made a different choice, they might still be alive."

He squeezed my fingers. "Yeah, it's definitely difficult. And not having anyone to talk to about it other than Mom has made it even more so."

"Well, I'm glad to provide a listening ear then," I said. "But… there's one more thing I want you to know."

"What's that?" Kal asked.

"If that's ever _me_… if we ever find ourselves in a predicament where_ I_ am in immediate danger of dying… I don't care if Barack Obama and the Pope are watching, you save me. Whatever happens after that, we'll face it together. You're _Superman,_ damnit! Let them come! I'm not scared of them if you're beside me!"

His face… I wish I had a picture of his face at that moment. The one human who adored him for being an alien, the woman who was closer to him than anyone else had ever been, was sitting there telling him that his presence made her unafraid of any ill-will his presence might bring… I don't think he really knew how to act.

Then his jaw clenched, and something in his eyes hardened from silver into steel.

"Never, Evie," he said, in a deep and resonant voice. "I will** never** lose you like that."

As if to prove his point, Kal reached out and drew me against him. He kissed me hotly, deeply, pushing me backwards into the overstuffed cushions. With each square inch of skin he revealed, he whispered a single soft word against it… over and over, until I believed to the core of my being.

_Never._

* * *

As time wore on, that conversation and others like it led me to believe that the Kents -Jonathan Kent in particular- were ultimately the source of Kal's deep-seated fears. Mark and Lana had helped to prove Jonathan's point, but he'd sealed the deal himself by dying under the premise of keeping Kal's powers and origins a secret.

Clark Kent had spent his whole life being told that he was different, and that his difference was something to be feared, hidden. Jonathan had told a fifteen year-old Clark that if it came down to revealing himself or letting people die… _he should let people die._ Martha had forbidden Clark from ever using his powers in the house, and told him to stop anytime she caught him at it anywhere.

It would have been easier to understand if the Kents hadn't been otherwise good parents. Clearly, they'd raised a son with a kind heart and a strong moral compass. He had fond memories of vacations to the family lake house he'd later come to own. They'd taken him to Disney World and to Six Flags, to the zoo, to the park, out for ice cream. If the baby they'd found had really been abandoned at their front gate by a frightened teenage mother… if Clark had been a normal human child… they would have done a great job with him.

But their son was from Krypton. And the man that fear raised was, of course, afraid.

When Kal was in the presence of others who knew him as Clark Kent, he became someone else. He slouched at all times, making himself seem much smaller than his real six-foot-two. He wore ill-fitted clothes that hid his lean, muscular figure, letting him appear skinnier than he really was. Clark was soft-spoken and rarely initiated conversation. He looked at the ground when he walked. He never stood up for himself. He was clumsy and awkward, just as Kal had promised.

Clark Kent had learned that he was bulletproof in the weeks following his Dad's death. He put a shotgun in his mouth, pulled the trigger, and spit out buckshot. He didn't even chip a tooth.

Clark Kent made me sad for Kal-El.

Kal-El was not truly Superman. Superman was a bolder, stronger, more glorified version of Kal. Superman was confident and charismatic in a way that Kal was not, at least not when we were at one of our homes together. But between the two Kal was much warmer: Superman could be rather distant, almost cold, although always civil and well-mannered. Despite brazenly wearing the symbol of House El on his chest, Superman was partially a shield behind which Kal maintained the sanctity of his private, personal life… because Superman was definitely also a celebrity, and not just in Metropolis. I was the only person alive who knew Kal-El.

Clark Kent wasn't really Kal-El either. Clark was Kal's attempt to avoid ever drawing any attention for any reason. Kal had been hoping for unremarkably normal, I think, but had way overshot it. Instead, Clark was a painfully shy nerd. Clark's clumsiness came from Kal's extraterrestrial nature. Kal would start to use his powers without thinking and Clark would stop him. Kal would try to jump over something that Clark didn't think he could clear, and Kal would wind up ruining his favorite pair of loafers in wet cement. I saw that shit happen, and it hurt like hell to watch.

Eventually, I couldn't resist starting to draw Kal out and make Clark fade. When we were in public together, and didn't expect to see anyone Clark knew… I 'slipped up' and him Kal. He freaked a little bit at first, but when I pointed out that people would assume it was just short for Calvin… and didn't know that his driver's license said Clark… he started to relax. One day I picked a sleek pair of blue-black sunglasses off a rack on the street, and asked Kal to swap them out for his hipster squares. I 'randomly' asked him if Kryptonians could get arthritis, because a human man would get a bad back from slouching like that all the time.

Slowly but surely I began to see the real Kal-El emerge. He was still undeniably _good_, and kind, and gentle, and sweet. But he was also confident; he smiled often, made small talk with cashiers, stood up straight, looked ahead when he walked, and spoke at a normal volume. He told me people in the office had started to ask him if he'd done something different with his hair or if he'd been working out. I credited it to his change in personality, but Kal actually had gotten bigger. Though his build was still well within reason for a human man, not anywhere near as big as a bodybuilder, he'd distinctly filled out. I realized he'd probably been half-starved since adolescence, and my suspicion was confirmed when his incredible appetite tapered off and he found himself full after three _servings_ instead of three _meatloaves_.

For two months I nudged him, one tiny step at a time, towards the man I knew he could be.

The healing of wounds went both ways. Kal realized that I liked to decorate my bookshelves with mementoes that would mean nothing to anyone but me, like the Escape Route bottle. It had taken me weeks to catch on, but every time we'd go out somewhere he'd find something small to surprise me with… and one day, I realized that I had taken down fully half of the things that Jewel had given me, and replaced them with Kal's pricelessly inexpensive gifts. Kal was clever like that, subtle… and amazing.

On that impetus, I went through all my belongings and made a box for Jewel. I had a box for my parents and a box for Scott already. Each box contained all the trinkets and physical memories I had kept from the life I'd shared with my lost ones. A councilor my Aunt Tracy had hired helped me and Jewel to make the box for my parents; Jewel had helped me make the one for Scott.

Kal helped me make Jewel's.

It was a big white plastic container, and before I put all the carefully wrapped articles inside, Kal and I each took a side and an end to paint. It turned out that to earn his photography degree he'd had to take several art classes in college. He painted an amazing replica of the Trifid Nebula (which looked very much like an anatomical heart) on his side of Jewel's box. It was a starry masterpiece, and it brought me almost to tears. Looking at it, and him, I knew that Jewel would have approved of this guy wholeheartedly… alien or no. I was deeply sad that they'd never get to meet. She would have been another human being that liked and accepted him.

The stained glass window with light shining through I'd painted on my own side was less technically well done, but no less moving. After the box had dried, Kal watched as I put everything inside: the ritual surrounding the box dictated that he couldn't help with that part. I dabbed away my tears with the blue handkerchief. The lid was left plain black. Together, he and I carried the closed container down to my storage space in the building's basement.

When we got back in the elevator to go upstairs, I felt a sense of closure I didn't know I had been lacking. It was a feeling that the long chapters of my relationship with Jewel had reached as happy an ending as they ever could with terminal cancer in the picture: that I had finally found purpose and meaning in life again, and gained the ability to start moving on.

Like my parents, there would always be times that I'd miss her and wish she was there. But now the wound her death made in my soul could become a scar and start to fade away, leaving behind the happy memories of our time together. Whenever I missed her, I could get out the box to look at all the pictures of us together in the good old days.

And someday that box would be covered with a fine layer of dust, just as my parents' and Scott's boxes had been when Kal and I had laid Jewel's to rest beside them.

* * *

Though I hadn't done it on purpose, Kal and I had put Jewel's box in the storage room nine weeks to the day after I'd jumped off the ninth tallest building in Metropolis. Nine weeks exactly after he'd saved my life for the second and third times. Three by three is a powerful number. It was just one more of those things that gave me this great, shapeless, uncertain feeling. As if the blossoming vine which was slowly twining Kal and I together was part of a bigger garden… a garden which moved in ways I didn't …maybe couldn't… understand.

By then it was full summer, and we spent nearly every weekend at the lake house. Kal had a police scanner app on his phone, which ironically enough was banned and could get him arrested. Occasionally he would get an alert that told him Metropolis needed her Angel. Every time he would get into the suit, stand out on the back porch, pick up my hand and brush a soft kiss across the knuckles, step back with a real serious look on his face and say:

"I must go, my people need me."

Half the time I missed his high-speed launches because I was laughing when he leapt up into the sky. Even though he never failed to say it, it never failed to crack me up. Because Kal was the only one who could actually fly away afterwards to help those who needed him.

I was amazed at how much my life had changed in nine weeks: at how much I had changed, how much Kal had changed, and how strong our bond to one another had become. I was also amazed at how very little Kal actually knew about his Kryptonian heritage. One sultry Saturday night when I started asking questions, he got frustrated and said that he'd already told me pretty much everything he knew about Krypton.

And then he smiled the sucker punch smile, and said: "You know what? You haven't gone flying for a while… why don't I take you to meet my father?"

I blinked, very much confused. "What? How would that be possible?"

"I told you Jor-El made recordings for me, right?" Kal asked.

"Yeah."

"Well," Kal continued, "they're not like Earth recordings. He made a recording of his _whole consciousness._"

Alien technology. I was stunned. All I could say was, "You better explain how that works."

He smiled, nodded, and disappeared for a second. When he reappeared on the L-shaped couch, he had something in his hand. It looked like an artist's graphite stick, tapered at one end and the crest of Kal's house raised on the other. The whole stick was the hexagonal shape of the shield.

"This," Kal said, "is the Kryptonian version of a memory stick or an external hard drive. This one holds a complete copy of Krypton's genetic memory, including my father's specific memories and personality. He can explain to you exactly how it works, but I have an Earthing's education and I couldn't wrap my mind around it."

I nodded slowly, still dumbstruck. I stared at this thing in Kal's hand… which still looked like a strange custom graphite pencil, wondering how it was even physically possible to store information on it. Was the outside just a shell? There was no port on it anywhere! When I looked at Kal, he was grinning. He held it out to me.

"Here, go ahead."

I tried to lift it out of his hand and was immediately surprised at its weight; it was like a brick, not a pencil. It was a little tough for me to hold it with one hand. Kal's right eyebrow lifted.

"It's heavy for you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Like it's made of lead or gold or something."

Considering how many times I'd engaged in carnal acts with the Kryptonian himself, I shouldn't have felt so overwhelmed right then. But I was holding an artifact of a dead planet, an artifact which contained no less than all of its genetic code and a copy of Jor-El's consciousness.

He was quiet for a long moment while I rolled it over in my hands. The surface wasn't a cover. There were no ports or seams, no tool marks or screws or anything else. I couldn't even begin to guess what it was made of, or how it worked. I wondered if Jor-El would have any more success explaining it to me than he had with Kal. Probably not: I've never been good at science or math.

"You know what?" I said at last, "I'm not going to ask you to explain any more. It'll be a lot easier on both of us if you just show me how it works."

Kal nodded. "There's only one place on Earth I can show you, though. And it's in northern Canada."

"What?" I just blinked, and handed the Kryptonian memory stick back to him. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was somehow going to meet Kal's dead alien father. But only Canada could make the device work? _What?!_

"The Fortress of Solitude," he said, with a bit of a sad smile, taking the artifact back. "You'll see, Evie."

He repeated it more softly, rubbing his thumb against one side of the object. "You'll see."

* * *

I had to ask my employer for a vacation in order to go to Canada with Kal. I hadn't taken much time off when Jewel had died, preferring to throw myself into my work, and at my firm vacation hours never expired. Kal and I agreed that a week would be plenty of time, though I had nearly three months available, and we each put in for our leave.

Company policy required me to turn in my request to the attorney I worked under, and he was solely responsible for its approval. For me, that attorney was none other than W. Andrew Dallas, the head of my firm, the owner of the tallest building in Metropolis and the great-great-great-grandson of one of the city's founding fathers. I'd worked for him long enough that his storied name, great wealth, and citywide influence had ceased to faze me.

Mr. Dallas' office was exactly what you'd expect: a grand affair in mahogany and buttery leather, with a small bar and big windows. The man himself was no less grand. There was no denying he was handsome; he had blond hair, green eyes, a shapely mouth and a lean, strong build. If he'd been my own age, my boss and I might have gotten along a little _too_ well… but he was in his late fifties, which made him old enough to be my father. Some ladies like much older men, but I'm not one of them. He was hanging up the phone as I walked in.

"Miss Woods," he said amicably, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Well Mr. Dallas," I said, smiling and handing him the paperwork I'd printed and filled out, "I'd like to take a vacation in a couple weeks."

He took the papers from me, set them on his desk, and said without looking at them, "Of course you may… but you've only taken time off twice in the seven years you've worked here. Do you mind if I ask what the occasion is?"

"I'm taking a little trip with my boyfriend, to meet some of his family," I said with a small smile.

It wasn't a lie. And that was a normal thing that human couples did.

My boss, affectionately called Dallas around the office, gave me a Cheshire Cat grin. "Well, well, Miss Woods, if I was twenty years younger I'd be jealous!"

"If you were twenty years younger you might not have to be," I replied without missing a beat. It never hurt to exchange a little friendly banter with the big man on campus, and it felt good that I finally had the heart to do so again. That wasn't necessarily a lie, either.

"Who's the lucky fella?" Dallas asked, getting up to amble over to his bar.

"He's actually a reporter downstairs at the Daily Planet," I said. "His name's Clark."

W. Andrew Dallas set down the crystal bottle full of scotch he'd picked up. "Clark? You mean Clark Kent?"

"You know who he is?" I asked, as an incredibly strong wave of déjà-vu swept over me. Since when did Mr. Dallas make a habit of knowing the folks who worked in the other offices which occupied his building?

"Yes, I do," Dallas said, giving me a look that was uncharacteristically dark for him.

He walked to the door I'd left open behind myself, and called out to his secretary.

"Delores, hold all my calls until I'm done in here with Miss Woods." Without waiting for her reply, Dallas shut the door.

_How… why… does my boss know Clark?! And why did Kal never mention it? He's been to my office, he knows where I work!_

Dallas went back to his bar, set out a second glass next to the first, dropped ice into both, and poured two fingers of scotch into each.

"Mr. Dallas?" I asked, all my playful banter gone. "Is something wrong? How do you know Clark?"

The high-powered attorney did not answer me. He handed me one of the glasses of scotch and gestured to one of the two leather armchairs in his office's small seating area.

"Evelyn, please, sit down."

I was getting booze? Dallas had never offered me a drink before, much less foisted one upon me. And he was getting that look on his face… the same one he wore when he had to give a client less than favorable news. _Why was all of this happening because I'd mentioned the name Clark Kent?!_ I was equal parts terrified and mystified.

And yet, obediently, I sat.

"How long have you known Mr. Kent?" my boss asked me.

"A couple of months," I replied cautiously. "Why?"

Dallas took a sip of his scotch, looking at me over the glass. Then; "And has Mr. Kent ever told you any other …pseudonyms… he might be known by?"

I kept my face carefully devoid of any emotions other than curiosity and confusion. Pseudonyms? He _couldn't_ mean… no, surely not _that. _Had Kal written some inflammatory article under a pen name and I just hadn't heard the story yet?

"A pseudonym, sir?"

The attorney sighed, took another sip of his scotch, and gave me a weighted look. I think he was trying to figure out if I was deliberately avoiding his questions or genuinely baffled. It was honestly a little of both, mixed with gut-wrenching fear that I was trying desperately to hide. My heart was darting about my ribcage like a startled bird.

"Evelyn… I'm trying to ask if you know yet… if Mr. Kent has told you…"

I held my breath. _Oh, please, no… nonononono… Please, Dallas, don't say what I think you're about to say!_

"…that he's Superman."

_Fuck. __**Fuck! **_


	9. Quark Matter

This chapter's theme is _'The Meaning Of It All'_ by Delta Rae.

* * *

"_Between stimulus and response there is a space._

_In that space is our power to choose our response._

_In our response lies our growth and our freedom."_

_\- Viktor E. Frankl_

* * *

"Evelyn… I'm trying to ask if you know yet… if Mr. Kent has told you… that he's Superman."

I read an article once which told me that your brain can think faster than your body can keep up with; this is why we can have a lengthy dream in a matter of a few seconds. I've suspected since I read that article that when time seems to slow down it is only our brains speeding up, momentarily forgetting our bodies to leap ahead, unfettered. In the seconds after my boss, W. Andrew Dallas, dropped that megaton bomb on me, my brain was moving at a thousand thoughts a second.

I suddenly understood Jonathan Kent's fear in a way I hadn't before. _This_ was the thing he'd been afraid of for his son. This was the moment of Superman's unmasking… and how odd that it was happening to _me_ and not _him_! I was so deeply and terribly afraid of what this would mean for me… for Kal… for _us._ Someone who didn't love Kal knew the truth of his alter egos. The gig was up.

Would we be hunted? Was the place in Canada remote and well-hidden enough to protect us? Could I really just leave everything behind and follow him into the wilderness? Yes, yes I could. I wasn't afraid of it. My apartment and material possessions were nothing compared to losing Kal if he fled and I didn't follow. He could probably kill and cook a deer in one fell swoop. We could go off-grid, no problem. Being a wild human might be kind of cool.

I looked at Mr. Dallas in that endless thirty seconds, while his words hung heavy in the air, and I realized that I was getting ahead of myself. Did he really and truly _know_ that Clark was Superman, or did he only _suspect_ and was attempting to get me to confirm or deny the fact for him? I had to be careful. I couldn't betray Kal by giving away something, but if my boss was _sure_ about it, I'd only paint myself in a really bad light if I tried to lie to him.

I was proud of myself. I knew my face was carefully blank, as it always was on the occasions when I sat beside Dallas in a courtroom. My tone was even, if a little quiet, and I held his green eyes without flinching.

"And why do you think Mr. Kent is also Superman?" I finally asked, turning his game around on him.

_Let's play courtroom, Mr. Dallas. You taught me everything I know._

Dallas got up. With a very grave look on his face, he retrieved a laptop from one of the cabinets behind his desk. He sat back down in the armchair to my right, and spoke as he opened it and turned it on.

"Three and a half years ago," Dallas began, "building security brought to my attention what they thought might be some sort of electrical short or glitch in the surveillance system… or even, possibly, a ghost in the stairwell. It was a multicolored blur that seemed to appear at completely random times… but never below the eighty-second floor, and never after building shutdown."

The Planet was on eighty-two.

"So, that was where I started. I wanted to know what was going on in my building. After all the cabling and electrical in the stairwells checked out fine, I installed a few different kinds of cameras. A thermal, an infrared… and a high-speed."

My heart sank. I knew what was coming. _A high speed camera._ Kal knew the cameras that were usually in the stairwell couldn't capture him when he moved at top speed. He must not have noticed when Dallas installed the others! Because a camera that could show the exact second a bullet burst a balloon, while the water inside still hung suspended in midair…

"It was the high-speed that got him, as I'm sure you can imagine," Dallas said, setting the laptop on the high coffee table and turning it so I could see.

It was a picture, clearly of Clark… he still had his glasses on and his hair back… but he was pulling open his black, long sleeve, button up shirt. Underneath, the blue belly of his suit and the crest of El were clearly visible. Then the screen changed; it must have been a slideshow of the file. The second picture was of Kal wearing his normal shoes and black slacks… but the top half of the suit was already unveiled, his cape rippling halfway down his back, his curl falling forward and the glasses gone.

I remembered that I had two fingers of ice cold scotch in my hand, and I drank it all in three quick swallows. There was a third picture, and a fourth… different outfits, different stages of undress. I'd been privy to enough lawyering to know I was looking at photographic proof that Clark Kent was, indeed, Superman.

But I saw a ray of hope when I remembered the first words Dallas had spoken. _Three and a half years ago._ He'd had these pictures for that long and Superman's real identity had remained unknown… at least to the general public.

"You've had these pictures for three years?" I finally asked.

"Yep," Dallas said. His face was as carefully expressionless as mine.

"Who have you told?" I asked, flatly.

"Not that it's any of your business," he said, blustering a little before his face gentled. "But… nobody."

My windpipe opened up a little. "Really? Absolutely no one?"

"Not a soul," he said. "Not until now."

"Why?" I always wanted to know why. It was the first important question I asked Kal, too.

"Because I like having him here. I'm sure you know how much good he's done for this city. Even in our firm, a lot of our criminal teams are being forced to move into contract or real estate or corporate law. And if a fire breaks out… or someone ever tries to bomb the building…"

Dallas knocked on the wooden end of his chair's arm. "…he's here. People that would otherwise die in a big building like this, they'll live. And if I made this knowledge public… if I'd ever tried to approach him with it… I had the feeling he'd leave."

I couldn't help but nod. I didn't say it aloud, but he was absolutely right. If he'd approached Clark last year, Superman wouldn't have been around to save me. It started to reaffirm my belief that all this was somehow meant to be, and bigger than just Kal and I. Because Dallas was one of the most powerful men in the city… _and he'd kept Superman's secret._

Kal might stand to gain a powerful ally. I let myself have a little more hope.

"Well, Dallas, I'm sure he would want me to thank you for not going anywhere with this."

My boss finally smiled, allowing emotion to crack his schooled façade. "This laptop's never been connected to the external internet and the wifi signal that transferred the original footage is heavily encrypted. It only fed to my desktop, which has PGP protocol installed on it, and those files were deleted when they were moved. I only had the cameras up for a couple months, they're long gone."

"Thanks for that too," I said, finding a smile to give him back. "And… to answer your first question… I've known since day one. He's never kept it from me."

Judging by Dallas' expression, he was floored by the fact. I found I was a little too good at being basically honest without discussing everything.

"But I'm afraid that's the absolute limit of what I can tell you. You know who he is, and the nature of my relationship with him. And you know that I know. That's all I can say."

He nodded. "I don't suppose I expected you to tell me much. You'd make a good attorney; you know when to keep your game face and when to cut the bullshit."

I chuckled a little. "Thank you, but what you've got on that laptop is clear as day. There's no sense trying to convince you that you're not seeing what you're seeing."

And then I frowned. "What… Are you ever going to do anything with this information?"

He got the strangest look on his face… it was _hopeful._ I'd never seen that expression on Dallas. It was oddly personal after seven years as his employee. He was a great boss: it was clear he had grown his family fortune through hard work and prudent management. He never raised his voice at any of his employees, always understood if any of us needed leave or assistance, and offered his legal services without charge to anyone in the firm who found themselves on the wrong side of the line. He was amicable and approachable. But we'd never been… friends.

"Well, Evelyn… you mind if I call you Eve?" he asked suddenly.

"Not at all, Dallas," I replied.

"Thanks," he said with a nod. "I want to talk to him, Eve. You're his girlfriend…" he paused, as if somehow he'd forgotten that the fact that I was dating a reporter named Clark Kent had started this whole conversation and was now star-struck by it.

"You're his girlfriend, maybe you could get him to talk to me and not disappear without a trace afterwards."

I couldn't help being a little suspicious of Dallas and protective of Kal. "Talk to him? Why? About what?"

"Easy, Eve," Dallas laughed, putting his hands up. "I don't know if people realize this… but I spend more time at this office than I ever have at my house. I actually have a suite of rooms on 102 that I stay in when we've got big cases going to trial. This building… this firm… this is my _home._ This is who I am."

I nodded. It was understandable that someone like Dallas would feel that way. And admirable that he valued it in the way he seemed to.

"It's not possible for me to be acquainted with all the people who work in this building, there's just too many. But the people in this firm… they're basically my family, too. Delores, who's been with me for twenty five years… Carla's been here for almost thirty, and Wallace has been practicing law for fifty-one years out of that same office. He worked with my Dad."

Carla Wise was a legendary paralegal on the Capital Murder defense team, and probably could have passed the bar cold any day of the week. Wallace was, of course, Wallace Anderson Deborou III, esquire, whose name was also on our letterhead.

"Even you, Eve," Dallas said with a small smile, "you're twenty eight, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"You're the same age as my daughter, then. And if she'd turned out anything like you, I'd be proud as hell of her. I bet your parents tell you that all the time."

I winced. "They died in an accident when I was twelve, Dallas."

"Oh." Dallas said, momentarily taken aback. And then he smiled. "Well, even if they can't tell you so, I'm sure that they're still proud of you."

I felt the hot tears stinging my eyes. It felt really good to hear, and moved me deeply.

Dallas took my glass and his, and went back to the bar as he spoke, courteously giving me a moment to get a handle on my emotions and blink the tears back.

"I don't know if he has any family. I don't know if anyone looks out for him. And somehow he's wound up here in my house," Dallas said, referring to Kal, as he poured us each two more fingers. "I want him to know that he's welcome here. If he somehow loses his job with the Planet, I'll find something for him to do… hell, he'd be perfect for security! And I'll never fire him for disappearing occasionally during his shifts."

I was speechless. When Kal heard this part… this was going to convince him that he didn't need to run. It would be the first time in his life that a human had known what he was capable of… and without even knowing why he could do it… wanted to help him. Wanted him around, and welcomed him. I accepted my scotch gratefully, and this time sipped at it slowly. How had someone like Dallas been hiding under my nose all this time? My opinion of my boss had been high already, but it was rocketing upwards.

"I'm a very wealthy man, Eve. I have more money than I could spend in the rest of my life if I _tried._ In the wrong hands, power like his could do a lot of damage. But he uses it to pull people out of burning buildings, and to find bombs before they can detonate… to _protect_ us. If there's anything I can do to repay him for that, on behalf of this city, I want to."

I found that I was fighting back tears for the second time, and my voice was thick with emotion when I finally managed to reply.

"Okay, Dallas. I think I can get him to talk to you without bailing."

He smiled… I'd known the man for seven years and I'd never seen him smile so brightly. Like a kid walking into a candy store and being told to go nuts.

"I have an idea," I said, even as it was forming in my head.

* * *

I sat back down at my desk twenty minutes later and wiggled my mouse to wake up my computer. As it came to life, I picked up my phone and sent a text to Kal.

_Are you in the office?_

Almost immediately, I got a response.

_Yep at my desk. Why?_

_I need you in my office in fifteen minutes. Drop whatever you're doing._ I fired back.

_Uh ok why?_

_Just get up here._ I replied.

The documents I'd prepared had just finished printing when Kal walked in without knocking. He looked worried.

"What is it, Evie?"

I gave the dark-haired man what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Sit down, Clark," I said, patting the second rolling chair I had in my office, which I'd rolled around next to mine. The big windows were behind me, a lush fern on a stand to my right side. I laid the papers out for him.

"This is a retainer agreement. It's standard issue for the firm, with the exception that in your case, Mr. Dallas is waiving his usual retainer fee."

Kal lifted an eyebrow and stared holes into me. "Evelyn, what the fuck is going on? Your boss wants to be my attorney _right now_? **Why?**"

I shook my head. "Sign this first. That way anything that is said between you and anyone who works in this office is protected by attorney-client privilege and no court can force its disclosure. It's for your protection, and mine, and Mr. Dallas'."

Kal looked horrified. I handed him a pen and pointed to the line. He signed it Clark Kent. Then he set the pen down and looked at me sternly.

"Now tell me."

I pulled the arm of his chair and turned him to face me, pulled us together until our knees were touching. I took both of his hands in mine and smiled up at him.

"You probably already know this, Kal, but I love you."

His face changed. The sunlight on his right cheek brightened him, made that smile shine like something holy, and he touched my left cheek. His hand was warmer than the light on the other.

"And I love you, Evelyn," he said softly, forgetting to be worried. He kissed me once, gently… but it was as if the sunshine that bathed us was suddenly focused through him and burning into me, illuminating every corner of my being. Then he kissed my forehead, right where the third eye lay, and sat back.

It was a moment I hated to destroy, but the information on the tip of my tongue couldn't wait to be disclosed. I had already dropped the atomic bomb, and it had already hit the ground. First came the flash of light that I found in our kiss… and now for the shockwave that would obliterate everything… wipe the slate clean…

"Then because you love me, Kal, you need to trust me and not jump out that window when I tell you the next part. Take a deep breath."

His face fell, and he obeyed me… his chest expanded as he drew the air in…

"My boss has known for three years that Clark Kent is Superman."

And his chest collapsed as the air rushed out of him, powerfully enough to sweep my hair back from my shoulders, like I'd punched him in the gut hard enough to hurt him. I still had both of his hands clutched in both of mine, and squeezed them as hard as I could. I hoped he felt it.

"Take another big breath in, Kal. Keep breathing. It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

"How is this going to be _okay?!"_ he demanded, staring at me in shock. He did obey me though, and took another big breath in.

"Think about it. He's known for more than three years… and has anything happened so far?"

He blinked, and thought about it. "…no. It hasn't."

"What would the people in the shelter have done, _Clark,_ if they'd seen you save your Dad?"

He just looked at me. There was so much emotion in him, I couldn't identify one before another passed across his face, flashed in his eyes. After a long few seconds, it settled into exactly what I'd seen on Dallas' face not long ago. _Hope._

"Maybe… nothing."

"Or maybe," I said, smiling, still holding on to his hands for all I was worth, "they would have wanted to thank you for saving the little girl, too."

He was still breathing. He was still sitting in the chair, he hadn't shattered the glass window, leapt out into space, and left me far behind. That was a big step in the right direction. Kal had turned a frightening shade of grey, however, and looked faintly nauseous.

"How did he find out?" Kal asked.

"You know that regular cameras can't catch you clearly when you move really fast… but they catch something. At first, security thought it was an electrical short or faulty camera cables. Mr. Dallas is the building owner, after all, so they brought it to his attention. He had someone come out to check all the electrical wires and the camera system, but they couldn't find anything wrong. He thought maybe there was a ghost."

Kal smiled a little, faintly. It was good that he could smile.

"The phenomenon had never appeared below the eighty-second floor, so he started there and intended to work his way up. He installed a thermal camera, an infrared camera… and a high-speed camera."

"Oh, shit," he breathed.

"Yep. Mr. Dallas has photographic evidence that Clark Kent is Superman. He showed it to me."

"And why did he do that?" Kal asked, clearly still trying to bend his brain around what was happening.

"I've only asked for vacation twice in my seven years here, and he asked what the occasion was. I said I was taking a trip with my boyfriend to meet some of his family."

His dark head nodded, but his eyes were wary. I told him the conversation word for word, right up until Dallas hit me with the big guns.

"Did you pass out when he asked you that?" Kal queried, only half-joking.

I laughed. "Nope, I did good. I put my game face on and asked him why he thought that. He told me the story of the stairwell ghost and showed me the pictures."

"What else did he say?" Kal asked.

"He said a lot… the only other thing I told him about you was that you'd never kept your secret identity from me. Which is true. I've always known you were Superman… but I didn't tell him you were wearing the suit when I met you."

I paused to search his eyes before I continued.

"He said he wants to talk to you. He did before, but he was afraid that if he approached you, you would bail."

Kal raked a hand through his dark hair. "He was right, I would have."

"You remember the Escape Route, don't you?" I asked gently. He nodded slowly.

"I don't think it's any coincidence that my boss… who also just so happens to be one of the most powerful men in the city of Metropolis… knew who you were and kept your secret. If I hadn't mentioned you casually in passing, you might never have found out that someone else could reveal you. I've known him longer than I've known you, and he's known about you longer than I have."

I squeezed the one hand he hadn't taken from me, and he squeezed back, looking into my eyes.

"He convinced me that it would be a good thing for you to talk to him. Making you a client was my idea, so that you could sue the shit out of him if he ever told, and so that he couldn't be forced to give up any information if anyone ever came looking. He said I was brilliant for thinking of it."

Kal looked at me for a long moment… and then looked out the window. He let go of my hand and stood up, clasped his hands behind his back and looked out over the city. My firm occupied the hundredth floor of the building, and there was no leased space above us. The view was spectacular. I would have had to change offices if I'd had any fear of heights. With the city skewed beyond him, illuminated by the bright summer sun, seeing him in profile… even though he wore Clark's clothes and glasses… I could see Superman in him just then.

Superman wasn't _completely_ a shield or an act. Superman was more like Kal's public face; a movie star on the red carpet or a firefighter with all his gear on. They were one and the same, deep down. It was Superman's courage I saw as Kal took off his glasses and put them in the breast pocket of his long-sleeved royal blue shirt. Then he held out his hand to me.

I took it, and he pulled me into a tight hug. He just held onto me for a long time, and I rubbed his back and stroked his silky dark hair by turns.

At last, he said, "You really do love me, don't you Evie?"

"Of course. I'm sorry that something like this was what prompted me to tell you so… but I do. With all my heart."

He took hold of my biceps, and held onto me at arm's length, a rather serious expression on his face.

"If I talk to Mr. Dallas, and I think we need to run… would you go with me?"

"Without a doubt," I replied immediately. "I don't have anything here that I'd lose you over. If you really feel that's what's best, we'll go."

Kal gave me a small smile of relief, and as I laid my hand on his chest… right over his heart, over where the crest of El lay hidden beneath his clothes… I felt a powerful light shining through the window of my soul. It was hope; hope that Clark Kent was no longer strong enough to hold Kal-El back.

"So… when are we supposed to do this?" Kal asked, his smile vanishing. "Because I don't know how long I can handle thinking about it."

I nodded. "I definitely want to get it over with as soon as possible, and Dallas has waited a long time for the chance to meet you. So… whenever you're ready…"

Kal looked grave, like a soldier preparing to jump out of a plane into an active war zone.

"Now's fine, but I need to stop at the restroom first."

"Okay," I said, hitting print again on my computer for a second copy of the documents.

"I had you sign this first agreement here as a precautionary measure, but you and Dallas will have to sign a copy in front of Delores for it to be really enforceable. Since you and I have a personal relationship, it's a conflict of interest for me to witness and notarize the document myself. Delores will have to."

Kal nodded. He was trusting in me to protect him… which was a weird sensation, since he was the one with the superpowers.

"Dallas isn't going to say a single word about what you and I have discussed until this document is signed and notarized, and Delores has left the room. Delores has been his secretary for twenty-five years, and he trusts her with everything. Furthermore, client confidentiality is one of the cornerstones of this firm's reputation. Nobody in this office is ever going to redisclose anything they may see or hear, even if they wouldn't be subject to huge fines and jail time for doing so."

He watched stoically as I gathered the modified retainer agreement and put it into a black folder with our firm's logo emblazoned in gold on the front. I powered down my computer and gathered by big black bag which had my wallet-style purse and my empty lunchbox inside. I gestured for Kal to precede me out of my office, turned off the lights and locked it behind me. I showed him to the nearest restroom and waited a few minutes. When he emerged, damp curls revealed that he'd needed to splash his face and neck with cool water.

I smiled at Delores as Kal and I walked into the area that was both Mr. Dallas' waiting room and her office. Smoothly, wordlessly, she picked up the silver stamping device which was her notary seal, and followed us inside.

Dallas was standing when Kal, Delores and I entered the room. He smiled broadly, and offered Kal his hand.

"Mr. Kent," he said warmly, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Dallas," Kal replied, in a cool sort of tone that made it clear he hadn't decided yet whether or not it really was nice to meet him.

That was Superman, right there.

"Evelyn, you have the retainer agreement?" Mr. Dallas asked.

"Yes, sir," I replied, opening the folder to reveal the signed one and the blank copy.

"Please, everyone, have a sit," Dallas bid us. Kal and I took the loveseat while Dallas and Delores took the armchairs. "Mr. Kent, if you would be so kind as to let my secretary have a look at your driver's license to verify your identity?"

Kal nodded, pulled out his wallet and procured the ID card for Delores. She looked at it, looked at him, and handed it back.

"Now, Mr. Kent," Dallas began, all business. "I'm sure my paralegal has told you what this retainer agreement entails, but I'm going to go over it again for the record."

I thought Kal's eyes were going to bug out of his head, but I patted the back of his hand gently and gave him a look that I hoped said 'relax'.

"This is a simple retainer agreement. What this means is that you and I have agreed that I will represent you as your attorney in any future legal matters for which you may be in need of council. As you currently have no legal action pending against you, I am waiving my standard retainer fee. Please do read it before you sign, and if you have any questions I'm happy to answer them."

I saw Kal take a deep breath in and exhale it slowly. He took the agreement that Dallas offered him and did as my boss had bid, reading it carefully. In the meantime, the older blonde man went to his bar and set out three glasses.

"Anyone else want a drink? Delores, it's almost closing time… you want a gin and tonic?"

She smiled a little. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde to cover the silver grey beneath, but the wrinkles showed clearly on her face. Delores had been an older woman when she'd come to the firm, and was nearing her retirement.

"Sure, boss," she said amicably.

Kal had said 'please' in response to the question, absently, as he flipped pages in the agreement. Dallas made two trips, one with his own scotch and the gin and tonic for Delores, and the second trip with a bottle of water for me, as I'd turned down a third drink before leaving the office previously, and a scotch on the rocks for Kal, too. There were four fingers in Kal's glass.

Delores downed her drink pretty quickly as Kal finished reading.

"This all seems fine to me, Mr. Dallas," he said at last, flipping the first page back over.

The attorney nodded, and handed Kal a pen. He signed Clark Kent, as he had before, and slid the agreement back to Dallas, who put his own signature in the line next to Clark's. Below, Delores signed her name and filled in her notary commission information, then picked up her seal. She slid the paper between the two rubber circles at the end and pressed them firmly together, raising the paper itself. She walked over to Dallas' desk to make a copy, put the original in an office file that she carried out with her, and put the copy in the black folder for Kal. She emptied her glass in the bar sink and then started out.

"Anything else for me today, Dallas?"

"No ma'am," he said, shaking his head and smiling at her. "Have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

She nodded at him and then, briefly, at Kal and I. "Mr. Kent, Ms. Woods."

And then she left the room, closing the door behind her. All of a sudden the tension in the air was so thick it could have repelled a knife, and needed a two-handed broadsword to be cut. Kal was the source: it radiated out from him in waves.

I hadn't prayed in a long time, not since I stopped believing in a sentient God. I didn't pray when Jewel died, nor before I leapt from the very building in which I sat. I prayed then, but not to any God of Earth. I prayed to the lost souls of Krypton, that they would guide and protect their Last Son through this… whatever the outcome would be. Kal surprised me by twining the fingers of his left hand into the digits of my right, and he held on as hard as he could without crushing the bones inside. I glanced at him sideways and saw him take a big breath in… let it out slowly…

Then Dallas couldn't take the silence anymore. I could see the eagerness in his green eyes. He stood up, and offered Kal his hand again.

"I couldn't say this before, Mr. Kent, but it's not just a pleasure to meet you… it's actually an honor."


	10. Stellar Parallax

This chapter's theme song is _'Radioactive' _by Imagine Dragons.

* * *

"_I will face my fear._

_I will permit it to pass over me and through me._

_And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path._

_Where the fear has gone there will be nothing._

_Only I will remain."_

_\- Frank Herbert, 'Dune'_

* * *

"I couldn't say this before, Mr. Kent, but it's not just a pleasure to meet you… it's actually an honor."

Kal stood, releasing me to shake Mr. Dallas' hand again. The dark-haired man's expression was stony, in his eyes suspicion and a little anger.

"Thank you for saying so," Kal said in a very reserved tone, reaching up to remove his glasses after the handshake was over. They sat back down.

"From what Eve has said of you," Kal continued, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, silver-blue stare focused at my boss, "you've treated her well as an employee and she holds you in high regard."

Dallas glanced at me and nodded, waiting for Kal to continue.

"But I am most displeased by the circumstance which has led us to meet today. And before I say another word, I'd like to see these… I believe the word you attorneys use is 'alleged' photos."

My boss actually chuckled as he got up and walked over to his desk where the laptop lay closed, waiting.

"Yes, alleged is the appropriate term, Mr. Kent," Dallas confirmed as he poked the power button to wake up the device. Just one click, and then he turned the laptop to face us. Kal immediately grabbed my hand again, and his face started to turn that weird shade of greenish-grey.

"Deep breath," I said as quietly as I could, and squeezed his hand. He obeyed me; a big slow breath in, slowly back out… and he just kept doing it as the slideshow passed. There were ten total, and once the show was done it closed out back to the desktop.

"There are hundreds of photos, Mr. Kent," Dallas said in a gentle, guarded tone. "Those are the ten clearest."

The blonde man reached over and closed the laptop by pressing his splayed fingers on the back of the screen.

"Eve has told you the story of how these came to be taken?" Dallas asked, not flinching from the super-stare.

Kal nodded, grave all over again. Still breathing, though, and pretty normally.

"The only copy of these pictures is right here on this laptop, which has never been connected to the internet. They're not on my desktop, or a thumb drive, or anything like that. The original signal that transferred them from the camera is heavily encrypted, and both this laptop and my desktop have PGP protocol installed on them. If anyone else has ever seen these, they are both a thief and an expert hacker."

"Thanks for that at least," Kal said, his mouth still a hard line.

Dallas smiled.

"You can break it in half."

I didn't think I had heard right. Dallas was going to let him destroy the evidence?!

"Excuse me?" Kal said, matching disbelief in his voice.

"You heard me, Mr. Kent. Go ahead and break it."

"Why would you want me to destroy your proof that I'm…" It must have been so incredibly difficult for Kal to speak the end of that sentence, to a complete stranger. His voice dropped a notch with the effort. "…that I'm Superman?"

"Because if I put myself in your shoes," Dallas replied without missing a beat, "this shit would bother me every night when I laid down to go to sleep. And furthermore, God forbid something happen to me… Eve wouldn't be the one to clean out this office."

Dallas paused and gave Kal a reassuring smile.

"I'm not going to show these to anyone. If I ever was, I already would have, I'm sure you know that."

Kal nodded again.

"Well then, to make certain that they never fall into the wrong hands… so that you don't have to worry about them ever leaving my office… destroy them."

For a long moment Kal just looked at Dallas, and then at the laptop, and then back at Dallas. He picked up the laptop as he stood, and stepped back away from the seating area. He held it at almost arms' length in front of him, one big hand wrapped around either end, and lifted a brow at Mr. Dallas.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Absolutely," Dallas said, grinning. I suddenly realized that Dallas was excited that he got to see this feat.

Kal snapped it, as if the laptop was made of Styrofoam board instead of hard plastic. Little bits of shrapnel burst out onto the floor around him, and finally… finally… my beloved found the tiniest ghost of a smile.

"And just to be thorough…" Kal said, putting the two halves in one hand and staring at them really hard, narrowing his eyes. I could see the heat shimmering right in front of his dark eyelashes, the faint red glow that shone out from the blue. The two broken ends of the laptop suddenly shot out a small shower of sparks and a few puffs of blue-grey smoke. Dallas laughed a little, eyes wide.

"That's just plain amazing," my boss said, looking at Kal with an expression of unabashed admiration. Once again, it was a really odd thing to see so much personal emotion in someone I'd only been vaguely acquainted with for so long.

Kal let his smile get a little bigger. "Thanks. If you've got a spare garbage bag… I'm going to tie this to a cement block and drop it in the deepest part of Lake Michigan for good measure."

Dallas laughed again, and shaking his head, retrieved a spare from one of his desk drawers. Kal tied the fried laptop in the bag and set it on top of his black DD&amp;H folder.

"So, Mr. Dallas… what else did you want to talk to me about?" Kal asked, clearly suspicious again.

"Please, just Dallas," my boss said. "Mr. Kent, are you aware that my family has been a part of this city for nearly a hundred and fifty years?"

Kal nodded. "Vaguely, yes. And you can call me Clark."

"Thank you," Dallas said with a nod. "Since my family has been a part of building this city, I wanted to offer you some gratitude on its behalf… for all that you've done for us."

Kal slid his eyes to me, questioning. I only smiled, and looked at Dallas.

"It's been my pleasure, Dallas," he said carefully.

"I wanted to approach you much sooner, Clark," Dallas said, "but I was worried you would leave if I confronted you, so I've kept my mouth shut. When Eve mentioned she was dating _you_, I finally saw an opportunity, and I had to take it."

A mute nod and a curious gaze from Kal.

"This building and this firm, all the people in it… this is more my home than any house I've ever owned. My family's role in this city has always been a part of who I am. This place _is_ my home and family," Dallas began, looking intently at Kal.

"I don't know where you came from or how you got here, but somehow you wound up in my house. If anything were ever to happen in this building, like a fire or a collapse or something," Dallas continued, knocking on wood as he'd done before. "You're right here, and a lot of people who might not make it out under other circumstances will live thanks to your presence. If you ever find reason to end your employment with the Daily Planet, I'll always have a job for you on security."

Speechless. Kal was completely speechless, the expression on his face stunned, and he had a deathgrip on my hand.

"If you ever find yourself the target of a lawsuit over some sort of collateral damage you cause, I'm happy to defend you free of charge. If you ever find yourself in tough times, and need financial assistance, I'm more than willing to provide that as well. I'm sure that the city doesn't give you a salary for all that you do."

Kal shook his head and laughed a little, dumbstruck. "No, they don't… and I've never asked."

"I don't expect you would have," Dallas replied. "But all of this is the least I can do, on behalf of Metropolis, in return for everything that you've done for us. You're always welcome in my house; it makes me feel a lot safer knowing you're here."

It was another one of those moments when I suspected Kal wanted to laugh and cry and throw up all at once.

"It means more than you can know to hear someone say that, Dallas," Kal said.

And then he gave Dallas a hard look, and I realized something. My Star-Born was going to test the limit of that welcome, to see if it held true. It wasn't enough for him to be offered this without the knowledge of how or why he could do what he could do. He wanted to be sure that this open door would stay open even if Dallas knew _what_ he was, and not just who. I prayed to the souls of Krypton again. _Be with him…_

"But… I feel that there's one more thing you should know about me before you offer the welcome mat."

Dallas looked… pained, almost. As if the suspense was killing him. But his voice was even when he spoke.

"And what is that?"

Kal took a deep breath. He squeezed my hand… and leapt.

"I'm not a human being. And I never was."

Dallas narrowed his eyes a little. "What are you then? A robot?"

Kal smiled a little and shook his head. "No, not a robot. I'm an alien."

"An alien?" Dallas sat back, and blinked at Kal. "But you look… I mean…"

That dark head nodded again. "I know. That's why my father sent me here, because we are so like you… at least on the surface."

"Why would he send you here? Are you… the scout for an invasion or something?" Dallas asked, suddenly suspicious.

The younger man put up his hands, palms out. "No, nothing of the sort. My planet… imploded. A long time ago, and my father saw to it that I was traveling in stasis at light speed towards Earth when it happened."

"As far as I'm aware… I am the last living member of my species," Kal said, more quietly.

"That's tragic," the blonde replied. "Why didn't more of you guys come here? Why just you?"

"From what I know, the planet's rulers would not allow the people to flee. They weren't convinced that the implosion would really happen. But my father was a scientist, and he knew. He couldn't get a ship big enough for all three of us past the military… but he could launch one small enough to carry me. I was a newborn, just days old."

"Wow," Dallas said. "Your entire species was wiped out?"

Kal nodded gravely. "Indeed."

Judging by the look on the older man's face, he was experiencing exactly the same emotions I'd felt upon hearing this story for the first time. Dallas clearly felt compassion for a being who had lost his entire species, and awe that he was actually getting to talk to a man from _outer space._

"My condolences," Dallas said, almost automatically.

"Thank you," Kal said, equally brief.

"Forgive me if it sounds irreverent… but is that why you're so powerful? Because you're the last… like _Highlander_?"

Kal actually chuckled a little. "_The Highlander_. Great movies, but no, that's not why I can do what I do. It's because the planet my species evolved on was much harsher, had a higher gravity, more caustic atmosphere and a weaker sun. That's why I'm so strong here. I'm meant for somewhere much tougher."

Dallas nodded, almost dumbly. "This is… I'll be honest, Clark, this is all a lot to think about. We're really not alone in the universe. If you exist, there must be others…"

A shadow passed behind Dallas' eyes, vanishing quickly. I wasn't sure Kal caught it.

"If there are," Kal said, "they've never made themselves known to me."

"But surely, out there, somewhere…" Dallas mused.

"If you think about how many stars there are in space," I finally piped up, "and how many planets might be orbiting all of those stars, it's statistically improbable that humans are the only form of sentient life in the universe."

They both glanced at me, and back at each other.

"Well," Dallas said, "if that's all that you wanted to tell me, the offer still stands, Clark. What you are doesn't change what you do."

After a long moment, Kal stood up and offered his right hand again. "There's nothing I need now, but thank you, really, for saying all this… and for keeping my secret. Words can't even express how grateful I am."

The older blonde shook the younger man's hand firmly. "I'm glad I finally had the chance to say it."

And then Dallas seemed to remember I was present. "Thanks for getting him to talk to me, Eve."

"My pleasure, Dallas," I said with a smile.

"Well, it's getting late, and I've got a dinner to get to, so I'm afraid the two of you will have to excuse me," Mr. Dallas said. "But I'd love it if you would come to my lake house for my 4th of July party."

Kal looked at me, and I nodded. "Sounds like fun," he told Dallas.

"Excellent. Ah, Clark?" Dallas asked as we were exiting the office.

"Dallas?" Kal asked, stopping.

"Could I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Kal cast me a weighted look… and I shrugged a little to indicate that I had no idea why. Kal nodded at Dallas, and I walked out. Closing the door behind me was agony.

* * *

I could hardly bear the silence as Kal and I made our way out of DD&amp;H. I kept quiet in the elevator, holding Kal's hand, ignoring the strange looks we got over his mysterious square garbage bag. Neither one of us breathed a word until we were back at my apartment. The moment my front door closed, my self-control broke.

"Well? Do we need to run?" I asked.

Kal smiled at me broadly. "No, we don't need to run. I'm convinced that Dallas will stay quiet."

I gave a whoop of joy and leapt at Kal, flinging my arms around his neck. He caught me and spun me around, then set me back down on the floor.

"Evie… don't get too excited. This doesn't mean I'm going to tell everyone," he cautioned me.

"No, I know. I can't believe you told him you're an alien."

Kal smiled at me a little, following me into the kitchen. "I don't really know why I did that… except that after some of the things he said… I didn't want him to take all that back later if I ever did really need it. You know, because of what I am. Better he finds out now."

I nodded, passing Kal an onion and a few bulbs of garlic; he'd pulled out the cutting board and a couple knives. I got out a big frying pan and crumbled in two pounds of ground beef, adding the stuff Kal was already finished chopping.

"I figured it might be something like that. I'm glad that you told him though," I said, filling a big stock pot with water and turning its burner to a high flame.

"Why are you glad?" Kal asked, retrieving a package of noodles and a couple jars of spaghetti sauce from the pantry.

"Because I think he helped prove to you that humanity at large isn't going to reject you."

He gave me a sideways glance. "I don't know that I'd go that far, Evie."

"Why not?"

Kal stared into the water, and his eyes turned that glowing red shade again. Immediately the pot broke into a rolling boil, and he opened the noodles. Meanwhile, I was adding oregano and basil to the browning meat.

"Be realistic, Evie. There are some people who hate other human beings because their skin is a different color," he said a little despondently.

"Of course there will always be bigots, Kal," I said, shaking my head. "And those people would look down on you if you were a different race than them, if you were gay, if you were the wrong religion… to them, 'alien' would just be another excuse to spew hate."

I stopped my poking and fussing with the ground beef to look up at him. He met my eyes briefly.

"That's probably true," he agreed, stirring the noodles. It hadn't taken us long to start working together in the kitchen seamlessly, no words needed. "But even if most people didn't care that I'm an alien, and still wanted me around… the government might come for me."

"They might," I said, pondering as I drained the ground beef. "It might force their hand if you revealed yourself to the world. I think they're afraid of you, though."

"I still don't know if I agree with you on that one. If they do know, I think they're probably overconfident enough to think they could take me out if they needed to." Kal said.

"There's no telling," I said, resigning myself to it internally even if I spoke it out loud. "I don't think Dallas could find out that kind of thing for you… but we could ask."

"Nah," Kal shook his head. "I don't think Dallas will tell anyone… but I don't want to be in any sort of debt to him."

"You don't completely trust him yet," I guessed.

"Don't be mad at me for saying so," he replied, glancing at me again, "but no. Not completely. How do I _know_ he didn't back up the files on his laptop? How do I _know_ he's never told anyone? The fact that nothing's happened so far doesn't necessarily prove anything."

"I guess I have to trust Dallas, at least a little" I mused aloud, changing from a skillet to a saucepot so I could combine the beef and sauce, let it get nice and hot. "My livelihood depends on him… and even if I don't know him well personally, I've worked for him since I was practically a kid."

I paused. "And what did he say to you while he made me wait outside?"

Kal looked at me sideways, and gave me that sucker punch smile. "I was wondering when you were gonna ask about that."

But… he didn't elaborate. I backhanded his bicep.

"No, sir. You are not allowed to withhold this information from me. Ve have vays of makink you talk."

Kal lifted the pot off the burner and emptied it into the oversized strainer he'd already placed in the sink.

"He said I should marry you."

I turned off the sauce's burner, and blinked at Kal, astonished. "Whu… really? Why did he say you should do that?"

"First he told me that anything you and I talk about outside the office isn't protected by attorney-client privilege, and that he really shouldn't even have you work on any cases that involve me since we're involved. But that if you and I were married, we'd be protected by husband-wife privilege, and no court could make you disclose anything I told you."

"I guess that makes sense, from Dallas' perspective, but he's thinking that I'd surrender to a court order, which I wouldn't. They'd pry my tongue out of my mouth before I'd use it to give them information about you."

I said that in a darker tone than I'd meant to, but Kal nodded and gave me a warm smile before continuing.

"Then he asked if whoever raised me had been truthful about how they came to have custody of me, and of course the answer to that question is no. He said that their lies might hurt my claim for American citizenship if I ever needed to defend it. But if I married you, since you've always known where I came from… they wouldn't be able to deport or imprison me because of my immigration status."

"Well…" I said, still a little shocked that Dallas would mention marriage. If Kal was already taking me home to meet his family… that generally meant things were serious… Dallas couldn't know it was a recording of Kal's long-dead father I was going to meet… but still…

For a moment my brain was stumped as to how to ask further questions on the topic without making it seem like I was proposing.

Then; "And what did you tell him?"

Kal gave me an evaluating gaze as we carried the twin pots of noodles and sauce to the table.

"I told him that was certainly something to consider."

The garlic bread dinged and I turned to go back into the kitchen. I didn't know if I was ready to be Kal's wife just yet. I was still working on helping him not to be so afraid of himself all the time. I didn't think _we_ weren't ready for that. It might be enough water to drown the tender shoot of our newly-born love.

"Would you really marry me just for citizenship?" I asked as I set the hot bread on the wooden cutting board and handed Kal the knife. He could hold on to the loaf to cut it without flinching.

"Absolutely not," Kal said, pausing to give me a really intense look. "In the event that I ask for your hand, please be assured it would be a genuine act, and done out of love."

He started cutting again, and continued speaking. "And furthermore, I'm not completely sold on American citizenship. I mean, it might be tough to get papers from another country, and I'm not really sure where I'd go…"

"But still. If they gave me trouble about it… I might just find somewhere that _was_ happy to have me," Kal mused aloud.

"That's the spirit," I said, digging into my plate of spaghetti.

He met my eyes, and smiled.

* * *

After dinner, Kal told me that he needed to take a weekend trip to visit his Earth Mom. He said that while he wanted me to meet her, this would not be the best time. There were some difficult questions he wanted to ask her, and he wasn't certain she'd give candid answers in my presence. With a quick phone call it was confirmed that he'd leave in the morning and return sometime on Sunday.

I got my weekend's worth out of Kal that night, and forced myself to get up in the morning to make breakfast before he departed. I ate but didn't have any coffee, and went back to bed after he'd taken his leave. I slept well into the morning.

To busy myself while Kal was away, I went shopping online for some really warm clothes. He'd told me that the place we were going in Canada was always cold, and flying would make it even colder. Living in Metropolis, I had plenty of cold-weather wear… but it was all stylish and poorly suited to carrying a large pack. Kal had warned me about that, too; we'd each have to wear a camping-style backpack to carry in our supplies. The closest store to the Fortress was hundreds of miles away.

I didn't know what to do with myself after my new gear was ordered. I went grocery shopping, cleaned the apartment, and watched a movie. Throughout it all, I felt this vague sense of anxiety. I wished intensely that I could be with Kal for this difficult conversation… though he hadn't said it, I knew he was going to talk to her about his Dad. I knew Kal well enough now to know that there were questions he wanted to ask, things he hadn't asked while Jonathan had been alive. And since he was many years in the grave… Kal intended to get whatever answers he could from Martha instead.

The sort of God I believed in didn't listen to prayers of words, didn't answer requests. My way of praying was with the power of my own soul; the Divine Light, colored with my love for Kal, cast out across the miles that separated us to uplift and strengthen him. Then I prayed to the souls of Krypton on Kal's behalf. I don't know why I felt like I should ask that they help him bear the weight of whatever answers he might find… but I did. And I wondered if they could even hear an Earthling's pleas.

He had texted me when he arrived safely, and warned me not to worry if I didn't hear from him again until he was leaving on Sunday. But just before midnight, my phone chimed softly. It was him.

_Are you awake?_

_Yes, _I replied.

_I miss you so much right now._

_I miss you too. Do you want to call me?_

_No, better I just tell you when I get home._

_Is it bad?_

_No, it ackshually went better than expected._

_:) Glad to hear it. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow._

_Goodnight, Eve. I love you._

_Love you too, my shining star. Sweet dreams._

My phone did not vibrate again that night, but that didn't stop me from falling asleep with it in my hand in case Kal needed me.

As I slept, darkness changed into a starry sea, where particles of light swirled in the waters and rushed back and forth with the waves. Kal and I were waist-deep in it, chasing each other around, splashing and laughing. Somehow we wound up tangled in an embrace, and I tasted the ocean's salty tang on his mouth when he kissed me. He dragged me playfully ashore and laid me on a beach of black, volcanic-looking sand. It glittered dimly in the moonlight. The stars and the water smeared against Kal's ivory skin as I traced the familiar lines of his musculature. Then he drew back, and when I looked into his eyes they weren't eyes anymore, but blazing blue supernovas that drew me into a burning whiteness. I was suddenly floating in something more viscous than water. Just above the surface, distorted by ripples, I saw myself looking down. I was naked, smiling, and my belly was swollen… the skin there seemed to be transparent, and showed me another burning blue galaxy which drew me in again. This time, it was back to the darkness from whence the dream had come.

I was roused by the chime of my phone, which had become buried under my pillow. It was Kal, letting me know he was on his way back. I started the coffee brewing before I took a quick shower, and got to work on brunch about an hour before I expected him home. I timed it perfectly; I'd just finished putting everything on the table when he knocked. I opened the door and stood back, smiling, with my arms open.

"Hello, love," I said.

Kal picked me up in a hug, spun me around once before setting me down, and without a word began to kiss me all over my face as if we'd been apart for months instead of a single night. Finally he hugged me close again, and murmured against my hair.

"Hello again, sweet Evie. I'm so glad to be home."

We ate brunch in relative silence: the mouth can't talk and eat at once, Kryptonian or no, and Kal still consumed enough that he couldn't do it in a reasonable amount of time if he was chatty. After the meal was packed up and the dishes done, we finally settled down on the couch with some modern piano music playing softly in the background.

"So," I said, "seems like you had an emotional visit to Smallville. I'm guessing you had to ask some questions about your Dad."

"Yeah, I did," he said, having the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you… but I didn't want you to worry that it would be more than I could handle."

"I figured as much, and I worried anyway, but I forgive you," I said with a small smile, reaching out to take his hand. "Now tell me everything."

"Well… I asked Mom if she knew why Dad had always been so afraid of people finding out about what I was. And much as I hate that you had to wait here, I'm glad you did. I don't think she would have told me the story if anyone else had been there. She said that Dad made her swear that she'd never tell me… but she felt like she owed me the truth."

I waited, wrought.

"Five years before I landed on Earth, my Dad was actually an astrophysicist. He worked for NASA, interpreting deep-space radio frequency data. And he was pretty sure he'd found an alien signal buried in all the cosmic noise. He did a lot of research and analysis, and was _sure_ that he'd found other life in the universe. But when he took it to his bosses, they laughed him out of a job. When he published a paper on it, he was laughed right out of the scientific community."

"He decided to re-start his life, move out to the country and become a farmer, finally have kids with his wife. But they found out that they couldn't have kids, thanks to a childhood illness in Dad. Mom said she was really worried about his mental health at that point. And then I came along."

"Wow," I finally said when Kal's pause drew out. "That's really surprising… but it makes a lot of sense. No wonder he was afraid."

"Well… that's kind of the bad part. Mom said that she stayed worried about Dad's mental health. At first, he spent whole nights out in the barn analyzing my ship. He'd measure me carefully every day, until he realized I was growing at a normal human rate. He took a couple of the things from my ship to Kansas State to be analyzed, so he could have proof of their extraterrestrial nature from a reputable source. She showed me the papers. The elements in my artifacts don't exist on the periodic table."

"That's kind of cool and kind of scary."

"I know," Kal said with a grave nod. "Especially since I wound up going to school there… wearing his name."

After a moment's pause, he continued. "The worst part… Mom said that she didn't think he wanted to keep me a secret out of fear. She said that while he never said anything aloud… some of the things she'd found through the years made her wonder if Dad wasn't planning to use me either as a research paper… or as a tool to punish the people who shunned him."

I cold shiver ran down my spine. If Jonathan Kent hadn't died… if he'd had decades to pound fear and rejection into Kal's mind… I was angry that Jonathan would even dare to think those things… sick and frightened at what Kal might have become…

…and, for the very first time in my life, I was _glad_ that someone was dead.

"Kal, I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, but I think my estimation of your Dad has just been lowered significantly."

He smiled at me faintly. "Good to know I'm not alone. Looking back… I can't really be sure, because I was so young… but I have to wonder if he wasn't using some sort of psychological conditioning on me. I don't know if it's easier to believe that, or to believe he scarred me with his own fears and possibly psychosis unintentionally."

"Did you ask your Mom any questions about her behaviors?" I asked after a long moment, unable to make a decision on Kal's quandary myself.

"She claims that refusing to feed me extra and banning my powers in the house were Dad's idea, and that he forced her to give me those two rules so that they'd appear as a united front. She said they argued terribly about it several nights, in the barn after I was asleep, and that at one point she'd almost left him… but she had been afraid to leave me behind and afraid he'd chase us if she took me."

"Well," I said, squeezing Kal's hand, "that explains a lot, too. Must have been a really difficult time in her life."

Kal squeezed back. "Yeah, at least I can still respect her, even if it took her this long to come clean. She said she's proud of me, and she loves me, and that she's never thought I should hide who I was."

"Really?" I asked, blinking several times in surprise.

He nodded.

"And do you believe she really felt that way all along?" I asked, unsure of what sort of reaction I'd get. Thankfully, it was a small smile.

"Yeah, I do. Looking back, thinking about everything I can remember from a different perspective… that explains the tension that always seemed to be between them… how sullen my Mom always was… if she was constantly doing something against her will…"

Kal sighed, and raked his fingers through his hair.

"Part of what makes me believe is that after we had the big talk about Dad… she wanted to ask me questions about how my powers had grown or changed, about Krypton, about Jor-El… all the things she wanted to talk about before, but had been afraid to. We really kind of bonded over it."

"That's the good news, isn't it?" I was trying to be encouraging.

"I didn't think about it that way, but yeah. That's the good news: talking about all this gave me and Mom lots of feels. And you know, she asked what had brought this on, and I told her about you. About Dallas, too, but mostly about you."

"Oh yeah? What did she have to say about me?"

"That she wants to meet you, of course, and that she's really glad I found a girl that loves all of me."

I couldn't help beaming. "So when can I meet her?"

"Well, she asked if I would mind hosting a family cookout at the lake house for the Fourth of July. We haven't had a gathering there since I came to own it, and she said it was shameful. I know we told Dallas we'd go to his party…"

"I'm sure he won't hold it against us if we cancel. Not if you explain the situation to him."

I was rewarded with a sucker punch smile. And a soft kiss, which turned into harder kisses… and ended with Kal loving me as if he'd been gone for months instead of for a single night. He stayed at my place, and as we neared work the following morning, I reminded him to put his glasses on.

"I don't have them anymore," he told me, smiling. "They're somewhere in Missouri."

I stopped in my tracks to stare at him. "What? No glasses?!"

"Nope. If anyone asks, I'll tell them I had laser corrective surgery done."

In the heart of downtown Metropolis was a century-old cathedral that still rung its bells on the hour. We were running behind, and the eight o'clock sounding chose that very moment to echo through the urban canyons between glass and steel skyscrapers. I smiled.

_The bell tolls for thee, Kent. The bell tolls for thee._

I kissed Kal lightly, and we walked into the building hand-in-hand. Clark Kent had become a name, a piece of paper, a trifling thing necessary for Kal to move about in this world. Only this… and nothing more.

* * *

Saturday morning had dawned bright and sunny over the North Shore. Some of that early sun filtered through the high, elegantly arched windows of the Dallas family estate, illuminating a picture on a mantle. It was a photograph of W. Andrew Dallas as a smiling teenager at Mission Command in Houston, TX. Beside it was a second picture of a slightly older Dallas shaking the hand of Neil Armstrong.

Beyond the sunlit room, out in a vast garden, the aged version of the blonde boy in the pictures was standing at the edge of his back lawn. His hands were on his hips, and he had a frown on his face.

The lawn had been bigger once, until the day the phenomenon had appeared. At first, it was broken grass… the blades snapped cleanly at exactly half their length, and laid over in a uniform direction. Then the grass had all died off, revealing a sigil burned into Dallas' back lawn. The gardeners had tried to re-seed the bare patches, but the grass wouldn't take. Flowers wouldn't take. **Nothing** would grow in the lines of the pattern left behind.

Eventually, he'd had his gardeners incorporate that scarred patch of grass into the garden that had been beyond. A small stone path led to a little fountain at the center of the sigil, and the still-fertile places between the lines had been cleverly planted with bushy vegetation. It was well-camouflaged now… but it was still there. It would always be there.

He'd had the soil tested, assuming it was some sort of poison or something… but the results had come back completely clean. Dallas had suspected before, but hadn't wanted to believe. Now he had proof, from an unexpected source. Aliens were real. And that was why the laboratory hadn't found anything in the dirt: they didn't have machinery to measure substances _not found on Earth._

Despite the warm sunshine, the blonde man shivered and hugged himself. Then he went back into the expansive house… and locked the door behind him.


	11. Dark Energy

Just a reminder, kids: all news, notes and extras for this story are now being posted on my forum! The link is on my profile!

This chapter's theme song is _'Rise'_ by A Skylit Drive.

* * *

_"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."_

_\- Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

Monday's glasses incident had given me the idea that Kal would come into his own effortlessly, casting aside Clark's fears and scars as easily as he cast aside Clark's clothes when the time came for Superman to emerge. In the subsequent days, however, Kal seemed to fade. He spoke less, smiled less… the warmth and light that I'd come to know as his presence was somehow dimmer.

When I asked him if everything was okay, he said he was fine. When I asked what was bothering him, he said it was nothing. The truth was the distance in his silver-blue eyes, the slump of his broad shoulders, in the new downward curve of his mouth. Something was eating at Superman. And it was eating at me that he didn't want to talk about it.

Was it the new light Clark's Mom had cast on his Dad? Was Kal wondering how much of his childhood had actually been the truth? He'd spent so many years letting the ghost of Jonathan Kent keep him in a cage of fear… only now to find that the man's motives for doing that to him might not even have been _noble_ ones. That had to be difficult to deal with.

Then there was the other bomb his Mom had dropped on him: that she'd never thought he should hide from people. With Dallas' welcome mat factored in on top of that… maybe Kal was seriously thinking of how bad it would really be if people found out what he was. It was a terrible dilemma to consider, even for me. The NSA probably already knew everything about him, and if he revealed himself as an alien he might force them into taking action they otherwise wouldn't. If he was hunted by Homeland Security after revealing himself, humanity's reaction to his secret would be irrelevant.

Or was Kal suffering an identity crisis? If Clark was only a piece of paper, and Superman only an appropriately reserved public persona… _who was left?_

I was at a loss as to how I could help him, and he wouldn't talk to me. I cooked his favorite meals, rented his favorite movies, made him take long baths in my Jacuzzi tub, and grudgingly gave him his space. Thursday afternoon, he told me almost absently that he had to go to the Fortress over the weekend. It was apparently necessary that he carry a rather large tank of propane up there in preparation for our week-long stay. I assented and waited for him to elaborate… but he didn't.

Friday afternoon, the breaking point finally came. Kal walked into my apartment with a brown paper bag in the crook of his left arm. And it clinked.

"What'd ya bring me?" I asked, feigning playfulness.

Kal set the bag on the table, blinked at me, looked back at the bag and then laughed once, dryly. "I'll be damned, Evie, but I didn't bring you anything."

He reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of Everclear 190 proof. Then a second… and a third. And I heard Kal's voice, from months before, echoing in the back of my mind; _"If I want to feel anything, I've gotta go straight to Everclear…"_

For a moment we just stood there, both of us looking at the bottles. I sighed, put my hands on my hips… and finally found my voice.

"I'll be honest with you, Kal. It hurts that you tell me everything's okay and nothing's bothering you, and then show up at my house with enough booze to get you well and truly shitfaced."

He finally looked at me, and winced as he did so. "I… I'm sorry, Eve. Has it been that obvious that something's on my mind?"

"Yes, it's been obvious. I've been trying my best to give you your space while still being supportive… but I don't think I can handle watching you try to drink it away instead of talking to me about it."

Now it was Kal's turn to sigh. "…Does that mean you want me to get drunk elsewhere?"

I gave him a wounded look. "No, Kal."

I stepped to him, and slid my arms around his ribcage, pressed my cheek against his chest, heard the steady beat of his heart. His arms came around me more tightly than usual, and I had the strangest sensation that he was holding on to me instead of just holding me.

"It means that I want you to talk to me, to tell me what's wrong. Please… it's tearing me up inside that you're shutting me out."

"Aw, Evie… it's not like that… I just…"

He got quiet, and when I looked up he was searching the ceiling as if the words he needed to translate his emotions were written in invisible ink up there. Wordlessly, I pulled him by the hand over to the couch and sat down. He followed docilely, and when we were seated I took both his hands in mine and looked deep into his ethereal blue eyes.

"Tell me, Kal. Is it the stuff about your Dad? Is it Dallas? Your Mom? Christ, is it _me_? Are you tired of me already?"

"It's…" he paused, thought about it. "All of it, and none of it. Part of it is you, Evie… but not in the way you're thinking."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, nodded, and waited.

"Do you spend much time thinking about the future? …Our future?" he finally asked.

"No, not really," I said, honestly and without hesitating. He looked surprised.

"Why not?"

"Well… I mean, I've never really been the sort of person to give the future a lot of thought. Sure, I put money out of each check into my 401K and my savings account… I have a will and an advance healthcare directive… but… I never had any dreams bigger than getting a college degree, a good job and my own place. I never had my heart set on being a wife or a mother… or a high-powered attorney or a rock singer or an astronaut or anything. And when it comes to you… well, you and I haven't talked about the future yet, so I haven't wanted to make any plans without doing that first. Especially since there are so many… loose ends, for lack of a better term, when it comes to your identity."

"So… there's nothing in particular you want out of life?" he pressed.

"Three months ago I wanted out of life, period," I reminded him. "So… as far as I'm concerned, every day that I'm alive and get to be with you is icing on the cake. I suppose I've always wanted to go to Africa, and Europe… but other than that… no. Nothing in particular."

He nodded, and let go of my hands, turning halfway away from me.

"Why?" I asked when he didn't say anything else. "Have you been giving a lot of thought to the future?"

He nodded again. "Yeah."

"…And?"

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"And I've never felt so unsure about it."

After a long pause, I smiled faintly and said, "Could you please elaborate?"

"Well, Evie… I know I've told you that I believe my powers come with a responsibility to use them for the good of humanity."

I nodded. "You have."

"I didn't tell you why I feel that way."

"Now's as good a time as any," I said encouragingly, with a small smile. It was a smile that went unreturned.

"When I met Jor-El, after he convinced me that he was actually my biological father, one of the first things I asked him was why he had sent me here. You know, why he'd chosen Earth. First, of course, was because you looked so like us… or us like you… that on Earth I wouldn't be visibly an alien."

"But then he told me the second reason, the one he said was more important. He said that humans could be a great people if they chose to be… that they only lacked the light to show them the way. That above all else, it was humanity's capacity for good that had made him choose to send them his only son."

"He certainly has a lot of faith in humanity," I muttered, not really trying to keep it under my breath.

"And a lot of faith in_ me_," Kal said, sounding glum. "It's been nearly ten years and I still haven't been able to figure out how I can be a guiding light for a species that doesn't even know my name."

"Whatever my Dad's reasons for doing the things he did… it doesn't change the past. It's always going to hurt that he chose to die in fear instead of having the courage to live and face what might come… but I know I can't go on like that. I can't let his demons be my demons anymore; I have to put it all behind me."

I patted his shoulder. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

He glanced at me, tossed a lopsided smile in my direction. "It feels good to say… until I think about where that path will lead. I'm not afraid of how the human race is going to react if I reveal myself… but I worry about what the government might do. Whether or not they already know, you have to admit it, Evie: if I go public, they'll come for me."

I sighed. "Yeah, they will."

"Even if they can't hurt me physically… they can make my life miserable. And they could sure as hell hurt you if they ever managed to get you away from me."

"Both true," I conceded.

"What I've been doing all this time… pulling folks out of burning buildings and foiling criminal plots… that's helping, sure. I've saved a lot of lives and crime's way down here in Metropolis… but that's not being a light to show humanity the way. I mean, think about the technological advances scientists would make if I let them have their way with my ship!"

I smiled a little, but he didn't give me a chance to reply before he continued.

"For the last decade, I wouldn't even let myself consider the possibility of a normal life. But since you and I have been together… I've let myself think about it. A house in the suburbs… a wife, children if I can have them… and I can't see how I can have that if I take the next step as Superman. I think I would have to retire the cape if I wanted any chance at a quiet life."

His voice dropped, and he stared at the carpet.

"I can't choose, Evie. If I turn my back on the rest of them for you… sooner or later, the guilt would eat me up inside. And I feel bad about it. If I really and truly love you, I should be able to walk away so that we can be together."

I took his left hand in both of mine, and waited for him to turn and look at me before I spoke.

"I'm honestly touched that you've been thinking about running away to the 'burbs with me and trying to start a family. It's sweet and romantic… but I have no desire to see you give up being Superman."

He blinked at me. "You don't?"

I shook my head. "No. And the fact that you can't bring yourself to choose has nothing to do with how much you love me. It has everything to do with who you are as a person: you're not selfish enough to give the world both middle fingers and take exactly what you want from life. You're too good for that, and I love you for it."

He smiled, and squeezed my fingers.

"At this very moment, you are Superman, we are together, and I am happy. Aren't you?"

"Yes, being with you does make me happy," Kal said, nodding, "but I'm not… content with that. At least, I'm not content with that in the long run."

I smiled. "There you go:_ in the long run_. At some point in the future, you want to be married and have children. Those are wholesome, reasonable things for a sane person to want out of life. I think you're wrong that the only way you can have them is to retire as Superman, though."

"Oh?" he asked, raising a brow at me.

"I think you've actually got it backwards on that one. Think about it, Kal: if you did retire to the suburbs, and we did manage to have children together naturally… what do you think the chances are that those children would develop the ability to fly at some point?"

He smiled a little, almost sadly. "Probably at least fifty-fifty."

"If they did fly, we'd have to teach them to hide it. Would you want the life you've lived so far… for them?"

Kal looked away. "No. That's the _last_ thing I'd want for my kids."

"Then the only way I can see for you to be able to have the quiet life you're thinking of… is to tell the world who you are and have them accept you. You won't be able to run once your secret is out: you'll have to make your stand, and fight until the fight is done. Maybe, if the people see that all you want to do is help while the government tells them you're dangerous… maybe they'll take your side."

The way he looked at me… I got the feeling he'd never considered that possibility.

"I… I wouldn't want people to disobey police and get arrested or worse on my account," he said, running his free hand through his hair again.

"Humanity is capable of great good, Kal-El," I said gently. "You've protected them for so long… I wouldn't _expect_ it of them, but I wouldn't be entirely surprised if they tried to return the favor. If they do, don't begrudge them that sacrifice."

He stared at me intently for a long moment. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and he didn't speak, so I continued.

"And in the interest of not putting the cart ahead of the horse… maybe we should talk about moving in together before we start talking about marriage and a family and a house in suburbia."

Kal finally cracked a smile again, albeit a sheepish one. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

I smiled back at him. "So… when is your lease up?"

"The end of July, as a matter of fact," he said.

"Well… do you want to move in here, or would you want to look at living somewhere else?"

He seemed a little stunned. I imagined that this was not where he had thought the conversation would end up.

"No… you own this place free and clear, right?"

"Yep," I confirmed. "It's mine. I just pay utilities, cable bundle, yearly property tax and building association payment."

He nodded. "I don't guess there's any reason to give that up for a mortgage payment just yet."

"Then it's settled. We'll take our vacation to the Fortress, then we'll throw our Fourth of July party, and then we'll merge apartments. And when we go to Canada, we can ask Jor-El if he has any specific ideas about how you can guide humanity."

I said the last bit with a wry smile and a kind of dry tone to my voice, which made Kal grin.

"That certainly would be helpful," he agreed.

"And we're going to see how all that goes before we think any further into the future, okay?" I squeezed his hand as I said it.

He nodded, and gave me a duly chastised look.

"If you want to get drunk now, feel free to proceed. Thank you for talking to me about everything," I said, relinquishing my grasp on him. Kal chuckled a little, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner. And I'm sorry that I made you feel like I was shutting you out. I guess I was also kind of… worried about how you'd take me not being able to stop being Superman."

It was my turn to shake my head. "You shouldn't have been worried about it, Kal. It doesn't matter if we're in a little house with a white picket fence and toddlers waddling around or out in the wilderness trying to keep the smoke from our fire minimal so the choppers don't find us again. The worst life with you is better than the best life without you."

I laid my fingers on his cheek, running my thumb across his lower lip.

"I had lost hope that I would ever find love again in this world, my Star Born, yet here you are. And I will never let you go."

I kissed him once, gently, and then whispered the word against his lips. "_Never_."

Taking a page out of his own book, I kissed his jaw, and said it again. I moved to his ear, his neck, pushing him back against the couch cushions. I unbuttoned the first button of his long-sleeved black shirt, and kissed the hollow of his throat where the collarbones met, and said it again. With the second button… I revealed the suit instead of skin. And I kept right on going, kissing the Kryptonian fabric, tugging gently at it with my teeth, all the while whispering that same small word over and over.

Kal had shown me how to take the suit off of him; where the clasps were that held the cape on, how to undo them without triggering the catch that would allow it to unfurl, where the hooks were on the inside of the belt that held the suit's top to its bottom. But I also knew where there were a series of cleverly concealed seams and buttons that allowed him… an easy out, so to speak, in the event that he needed to relieve himself. For once, I put that capacity to a different use… and left the suit on him for the first round.

As I finally did remove Kal's trademark blue, red, and gold from his lithe form, I told him that Superman or not, he would always be my hero. He told me that he loved the way I could be just as corny as he was… and kissed me, and tumbled me over backwards onto the bed.

* * *

The alarm went off at four in the morning, and it took every ounce of my willpower to force my body up out of bed. I started breakfast while Kal showered, shaved, and gathered his supplies for the trip. I wasn't very talkative, still half-asleep, but the silence had gone back to being comfortable instead of strained.

The three bottles of Everclear were still sitting on the table when we got up, and Kal decided to take them up to the Fortress, along with the unopened bottle of Grey Goose I had in the cabinet above the fridge. He was wearing a suit that was very like the Superman one in its shape and fit, but made of fabric that was mottled sky blue and white and grey. It had a cape, too, which he let fall over the pack on his back. He stood at the door and opened his arms to me.

I buried my fingers in his black hair and gave him a lingering kiss, then stepped back.

"Have a good flight, honey," I said, smiling.

"Thanks, I always do," he said, giving me the sucker punch. "I'll see you Sunday."

"An eternity until then, my love," I said, catching his hand and brushing a kiss across the knuckles.

"Indeed," he said, touching my left cheek gently. And then he was gone.

I locked the door, made sure everything was turned off, and proceeded directly back to bed. As I laid there with my eyes closed, waiting for sleep to take me again, I allowed myself to contemplate a few of the many possibilities that the future could hold for Kal and I. Deliberately, I turned my face away from the slowly lightening windows.

My thoughts became scattered as I drifted on the blurry verge between waking and sleeping, but one last coherent idea slipped through with clarity it shouldn't have possessed. Fate had brought Kal and I together… but how could I be naïve and conceited enough to think I was the only thing that fate had in store for someone like Superman?

That notion chased me down into sleep, and showed me a terrible vision. It was Kal, in his Superman suit… but the suit was torn in several places, and his cape was smoldering. His eyes blazed with crimson light as all the police cars and armored SWAT vehicles around him erupted into balls of flame. Gunfire blazed at him like a terrible flashing storm in response, and Kal laughed. He spread his arms wide and _clapped_ …only clapped like an overexcited child… but the shockwave from it sent police officers flying head over heels. They landed with unpleasant splattering, crunching noises.

Kal kicked a police car three stories up into the side of a building. Glass and concrete rained down onto the street. Fire and smoke bellowed out of the hole the vehicle had created, and I could hear the screams of both people and alarms from within. The wail of sirens was rising, chased by the distant sound of helicopters.

"Bring it OOOOONNNNN!" Kal screamed, the last word growing in volume until it became so loud I had to cover my ears. Another moment later all the glass windows of the skyscrapers around us shattered and fell to the ground in a sheet of terrible rain.

I dumbly tried to shake the shards from my hair, and only cut up my scalp and my fingers. I stared at my own blood, and then looked up at Kal. My ears were still ringing from the fearsome sound of his inhuman voice. Tears clouded my vision.

"Please, Kal… stop this!" I managed to say in a choked whisper.

Even though he was at least two blocks away, he heard my voice, and turned. The rage vanished, replaced by an expression of sorrow.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, loud enough for me to hear it. "They're about to firebomb this part of the city."

"Then please, let's go!" I begged him.

"You said it yourself," he called. "I have to stand and fight until the fight is done. But you need to run. Now!"

"No! Not without you!"

"RUN, EVE!" he shouted, so loud it hurt my ears. "RUN!"

I sat bolt upright in my bed at 7:41 AM. My pillow and my cheeks were wet with tears, my heart pounding, my breathing ragged. I got up and used the bathroom, splashed my face with cool water, took a few sips from the faucet, and lay down on the side of the bed where Kal had slept. Though it smelled like him, and helped me relax, I couldn't fall back asleep.

As I grudgingly started my day, the nightmare battlefield haunted me. I had never considered how truly and completely devastating Kal would be should it come down to combat with the forces of Earth. I didn't think he would actually _hurt_ people… but if they tried to take me… or attacked him and wouldn't stop… what would he be forced into?

A shiver raced down my spine, and I decided to take my own advice: I wasn't going to think any further into the future than the Fortress and the Fourth of July party. Determined as I was… it was difficult to shake the mental image of Kal laughing while he carelessly slaughtered police.

* * *

Kal returned as planned on Sunday afternoon. He seemed in good spirits, and told me that the Fortress was all set for our arrival. The week passed uneventfully until Thursday afternoon. I got a text from Kal about an hour before I left work.

_This false flag thing is fucked up,_ he started.

_I'm proud that you finally remembered you had that dollar. We'll talk about it when I get over there,_ I replied.

He sent me a smiley face, but when I got to his apartment Kal was sitting at his computer, looking stressed all over again.

"Okay, Evie, you better explain to me why you put 'petrodollar', 'Iraq Oil In Euros' and then 'False Flag Attack' in that order."

I kicked off my heels and flopped down on Kal's battered green plaid sofa. "Why do you think I did that, Kal? You're a smart guy."

"Well… the petrodollar system is pretty critical to the value of the United States dollar, isn't it?" he asked.

I nodded. "Of course. And it brought us a lot of benefits… money… that we probably weren't entitled to."

"And ol' Saddam started selling oil in Euro dollars instead of American ones."

"He did," I said, "Because I'm sure he gave absolutely zero fucks about what America would have to say in the matter."

Kal looked grave. "And the American people wouldn't have supported sending soldiers over there just to keep him from doing what he wanted with his country's finances, dictatorship or no."

"So… they needed a good reason to go over there and start smashing shit up," I finished for him. "And what better reason than a deadly terrorist attack on American soil?"

He shook his head. "But… they have some of the planners in custody… at Guantanamo Bay, right?"

I nodded. "So they say. But they also admit to using 'enhanced interrogation techniques' on those men. The validity of their confessions has been questioned repeatedly."

Kal was turning that strange grey shade again. "They were tortured. I remember news stories about that happening in Iraq… waterboarding and electrical shocks and stuff."

"Yeah. America totally does that," I said sadly. "And even with all that going on… did we find Al-Qaeda training camps in Iraq? Or those dreaded dubya emm dees?"

I was referring to Weapons of Mass Destruction, which had become known as WMD's during the war, but I'd said it with George W.'s southern drawl. Kal was staring at me, a look of horror on his face.

"No… we didn't…" he said softly.

"You were there, Kal. What did you see when you went to Iraq?"

"Death," he breathed after a long moment. "Death and hardship and bloodshed; families destroyed, soldiers who came to give their legs and arms and eyes and lives."

"We did it for oil. Most people in America today acknowledge that on some level, yet they still try to justify it by saying that we did the Iraqi people a favor, liberating them from a brutal dictator. They refuse to accept that the government carried out a false flag attack to stir up support for an otherwise unjustifiable war. Because once you accept that, you have to accept that you have no idea what the truth actually is, and that your government has no problem lying to you, selling you for profit, or even murdering you outright."

He looked grave. "It's sickening to think about. And I don't want to think about it anymore."

I smiled faintly. "What you're experiencing is something called cognitive dissonance. The information you're being given doesn't fit in with the picture of reality you've had most of your life. One way or the other, it will wear off soon enough."

"One way or the other?" Kal asked.

"Either you'll believe, and let your reality get warped, or you'll find a way to disbelieve it and go back to the world you think you know."

Kal shook his head at me. "What got you started on all of this, anyway?"

"It was Jewel," I replied. "She went to an arts college, and met a whole bunch of radicals there. At first I thought she was nuts… but the more I read, the more I had to question everything."

"And what made you believe that the United States government had gone this bad?" he asked, an intensely curious note in his tone.

"For me, it was the Icelandic Revolution."

He blinked. "The what? Iceland had a revolution?"

I smiled. "They did. In 2011, the people of Iceland overthrew their government without a single riot or drop of blood spilled."

"I never heard about that," he said, still surprised.

"Would a government who slaughters their own citizens in a false flag attack to justify a war over oil allow a story about a peaceful, successful revolution to be published all over their country?"

For a moment, he just stared at me. "No," he said, finally.

"No," I agreed. "Of course not."

He turned back to his computer screen, and started to type 'Icelandic revolution' into the search bar… but I spoke up.

"Hey, you've had enough truth for one night," I said, making him turn back around to me.

"What? How can I stop?"

"Easy there, copper top," I said, chuckling. "If you get too much information all at once, you'll pop."

"Copper top?" he asked.

"How long has it been since you've watched _The Matrix_?" I asked.

"Years," he said.

I have him a wicked little grin. "In your current state of mind… _The Matrix_ is totally going to bake your noodle."

I patted the couch cushion next to me. "Come have a sit, let's watch it."

He obeyed me, and we watched the movie together. Kal did, indeed, seem a little mindblown. When the credits started to play and I turned the entertainment center off, he gave me a strange sort of look.

I quoted Morpheus at him. "So there you have it: we are slaves, living in a prison we cannot see or smell or touch. A prison… for our minds."

"That's… that's eerie. It's fiction, but when you think about it… I mean really think about it…" he mused aloud.

"Yep. I believe there's a world that's been pulled over our eyes to blind us, and I took my red pill a long time ago. You can choose to take the blue one if you want, and forget all about it… I won't hold it against you. I mean, look at Cypher."

Kal gave me kind of a startled look.

"Once you start to accept these terrible things, Kal, there's no going back. You can put it out of your mind for a long time, but sooner or later, something will remind you of it. Before you do any more Googling from the dollar, ask yourself if you really want to know."

He nodded, and took my hand when I stood up and offered it.

"But for now, it's late, and we've got a big weekend coming up. We should get some rest."

We shut off the lights and went to bed, and in the morning Kal seemed to have pretty much forgotten the conversation. We went to work, and spent Friday evening making sure all our supplies for the trip were well in order. I had a tough time sleeping that night, wondering what the Fortress and Jor-El would be like. I forced myself not to ask any questions - that was the whole point of Kal taking me up there, and I didn't want to spoil my own surprises.

Butterflies danced in my stomach as Kal and I stood on my rooftop in the darkness of pre-dawn. A pair of mountain climbing harnesses and clips attached me to Kal's chest, so that I wouldn't fall if I got muscle cramps from holding on to him for the hours-long flight.

"Ready?" he asked gently, smiling.

"Absolutely," I said with a grin, and pulled my ski goggles down over my eyes to protect me from the wind.

He chuckled, kissed my forehead, and I settled my head on his shoulder. Up we went, away and northward, towards Kal's arctic Fortress of Solitude.


End file.
